Silence of the White Rose
by MissHikaHaru
Summary: On the way to visit her nephew on the eve of his eighteenth birthday, Madame Red finds and helps a mysterious girl who reminds her of darling Ciel Phantomhive. Things go well, until the nightmares of her past are able to track her down, made all the more dangerous by the lurking desires from the bottom of Ciel's broken heart.
1. Plucked from the Winter Road

Rain drizzled in that cold-shouldered way it always seemed to in England. The sky from which it fell was overcast and grey as steel, with occasional encounters of pallid sunlight rising and falling from his sick-bed. It was a frigid day, mid-December, with breezes that blew past me and chilled me to the bone as I sat beside the empty road. What little clothes I had I wrapped tight about me, pulling at the flimsy material to rearrange it into a more comfortable position. My shoes, if that's what you could call the mangled scraps of leather attached to my icy soles, rubbed against my many frozen blisters as I shuffled to lean my back against a tree. I could see my breath before me in a swirling cloud of white, like an almost invisible rose, as it departed through my chapped and bluish lips to the winter skies above.

The sapphire eyes buried within my sloe, pale face were always half shut with tire and sting against the coldness of the bitter countryside. A breeze blew past again, chilling me further as it swirled my long, tangled Payne's grey hair across my face. I heaved a great sigh as I gathered the tattered ends of my dress about my knees and rested my head on them. The world was silent around me, save for the rustle of leaves and grass and wilting flowers as the wind stirred them for his selfish attention. _And it wasn't as if I could add any sound to it_, I thought darkly to myself.

My bones ached and creaked like tired old floorboards, the pain of being so cold it burns spreading throughout my entire body. It was a day like any other, where I just wished to be taken from this roadside and just disappear. My toes would clench and wriggle but I had no sensation of doing so, nor any spark of warmth within any part of me. Only pain and ache and ice, my knees pressing to my heart, and my eyelids fluttering weakly. I could feel the cold sting of the blade I concealed in my tattered corset. Tiny raindrops speckled my dirt-encrusted face, increasing the chill and turning my cheeks red and raw. I slowly gave way to sleep, praying to my God that this time – _this time_ – I may finally never wake up.

But wake up I did, with the sound of large wooden wheels trundling closer. This struck me as odd, for nothing came by this rock dirt road but the foxes and the rabbits. But now I saw an enormous red carriage looming round the trees, pulled by two horses with coats so black and fine I knew this tumbril must be owned by someone very rich indeed. A lord perhaps, or a duke. I shuffled uncomfortably back so my toes were not crushed by the large clopping hooves nor the spinning spokes of the scarlet wheels as they passed. I looked up, just to catch a glimpse of the grand person inside, and I saw a snatch of flaming red hair and wide eyes before the angle of the window cut off my vision. I sighed, turning my head away and staring with a sullen expression at my white feet and the dirt and dust caking beneath my nails. That carriage seemed my only chance to escape my life on this roadside, but in my weakened and exhausted state there was no way I could catch it up now. And it wasn't as if I could scream after them for help.

I wrinkled my lips as I put numb fingers to my parched throat, and I screwed up my eyes to avoid tears forming. It was no use crying; there wasn't a cure, and I knew that. I was too old to believe in magic or fairy tales anymore. The life I had led was further proof of that. But then I heard the sound of surprised whinnying, and turned my head to see the carriage had stopped. I frowned, trying to sit up a little higher to see over the sleeping bushes beside me. Why had it stopped?

But then the driver clambered down from his seat and, with a shiver, reached out and pulled open the richly embellished door. Before he could step back a figure dressed in pure red leapt out and turned a head of straight scarlet hair to look around the plain scape as if searching for something. The figure and, presumably, their carriage were a brash contrast to the pallid complexion of the frozen English countryside. It hurt my eyes to see colour for the first real time in what felt like years. The mysterious figure of fire seemed to see me, perhaps the faintest glimmer of blue among dead grey, and instantly began to run. A wide-brimmed red hat fell from their head, uncovering their face for the first time. I saw it was a woman, with pale skin and lips painted a rubicund shade. As she drew closer I quickly ducked my head back below the top. Why was she running towards me? Who even was she?

The strange woman slowed to a walk, huffing a little so clouds rose from her scarlet mouth to trail behind her, and soon she was standing before me. She was very tall, thin, and oddly formidable. Then she bent and threw her arms about me.

"Ciel!" she cried, and for a moment I was too startled to even think, delayed as my reactions were from fatigue and cold. "Oh, dearest nephew!" I saw that her eyes were the colour of blood, and my own widened in fear. I traced a hand beneath the thin fabric of my bodice. "What are you doing here? Alone on the roadside in the freezing cold? Where on _Earth_ has Sebastian got to—" My numb fingers curled around the handle of my hidden knife, and I whipped it out to hold against her throat. She immediately relinquished her hold on me, her face shocked and those blood-stained eyes of hers were wide like a small child that had been frightened. "Ciel! What are you—" Something seemed to click in her expression, as she saw my dress – as it wasted away from my body so tears and holes slowly aided the entanglement of threads at ripped seams – the long, charcoal hair that fell to lie in a knotted mess upon the grass, and the terrified look in my eyes – both blue.

"Oh…" the raving red woman whispered, her eyes fixing me with a quizzical, and also endearing gaze. "You…you're not my darling Ciel, are you?"

"Nng!" I grunted, shaking my head so vigorously I caused a dizziness all of its own. I dropped the knife and clapped my hands to clutch either side of my head as if it might fall off. The woman reached for me but I saw her hand extending and tried to scramble away from her only to wince in pain. I gripped a hand to my leg, my teeth bared, and her eyes flicked to it. I tried to move my leg away, to cringe back so this frightening woman would just go away, but she had seen the blood as it stained the torn fabric of my skirt. Her hand darted out, in a flash of lacquered red nails, and she held my knee in a strong grip. I scrabbled for my knife and pointed it at her, but she made quiet shushing noises and peeled back my dress with surprising gentleness. Her eyes widened as she saw the newly reopened slash upon my leg, blood glittering like ointment around it, and she reverted her gaze back to my face. The point of my blade just touched the spot between her eyes.

"Your wound is terrible," she said quietly, her eyes transfixing mine. They were striking, and yet beautiful in their own sense of the word. "My dear, I should very much like to tend it," Tend it? How do I respond? Oh… I realised, and a pang of sadness rushed through me. I lowered the knife slowly and tried to suppress tears, though my pale lips were trembling. This woman was kind, when so many were not. And had I not prayed to be taken from this roadside? Could this strange woman in red be the answer, a hope sent to me from God? The corner of my weak mouth twitched in a smile, and she took this for an answer. "So I may take you with me, until you are back to health?" I paused a moment, and a wind blew past. My teeth chattered, as the biting chill wriggled through the tatters and tears of my muddy dress and laughed as it kicked and scratched at my skin. The woman pulled her arms from the large coat she was wearing and threw it about me. Instantly warmth radiated within me, for the first time in weeks, and I sighed contentedly. "You will come with me?"

"Mm," I nodded. She smiled gently, before wrapping an arm around my shoulders and helping me to stand. I was shaky and uncertain of my feet, numb as they were, but she was kind and let me lean on her as we began to slowly hobble towards the carriage; I surreptitiously tucked my knife into the back of my skirt. I chanced a look at the driver as we stopped, and saw that he had long hair tied in a tail and wore glasses. He was surveying me curiously as the red woman helped me inside the scarlet carriage. It was comfortable, to be fair, and rather warm once the curtains were pulled closed over the windows, but all the same I thought it would look much nicer in white…

But soon I didn't care much for colours, nor the gentle sensation of movement, nor the mild gaze of the red woman beside me, for I had laid down my head and fallen soundly asleep. She carefully lifted my head and placed it on her lap, stroking her red-nailed fingers through the messy tangle of purple taupe curls.

"How much you remind me of Ciel…" she breathed, brushing a few locks back from my pale cheek and tucking them gently behind my ear. "Perhaps, when you awake, I might know who you are…?" Even in sleep her words seemed to reach me. _There will be no chance in Heaven of that, sweet lady_, I thought. _Although I do so wish to tell you…_

* * *

"Child," a gentle voice whispered, a warm hand shaking me. "Child, you must wake up. We have arrived," My eyes slowly flickered open, hazy with the dregs of sleep as they tried to focus. For a moment I forgot myself, where I was and who was speaking to me, but then I remembered as my leg gave another painful twinge. I was…I was in a carriage, lying in the arms of a…a red lady, a compassionate red lady, who wanted to look after me. I could feel her long fingers smoothing my hair, and I slowly turned my head to look up at her. She smiled.

Truly she was quite a beautiful woman, thin-lipped but nonetheless kindly looking. Her hair short and vibrate, framing her delicate features with a sharp fringe. Even her eyes like rosewood were beautiful, though the redness was more than a little frightful. I blinked my own, large and deep and blue, and for a moment I simply gazed up at this gentle stranger. She reminded me of a rose in some way, loveliness both inside and out.

I hadn't really heard her words, if I speak the truth. My heart gave a bitter pang. I hadn't even felt the carriage halt, but now I realised we were no longer in motion. I quickly sat up, and the woman gave a small jump. My head felt giddy for a moment, before thoughts scrabbled constantly to the front and shoved the others back.

"Gently, gently; you're not well," She hushed me, lightly stroking my long hair. I felt her eyes trace it all the way down to below my hips, and I looked away. The curtains were still closed, and excitement fluttered in my chest. I moved to just beside the door, and tentatively reached for the red and gold velvet. _Such fine material, just for curtains? She must be rich indeed_, I thought. But I had no care for that now. Where were we? My heart was pounding with trepidation. Yet still I couldn't believe what had happened to me; that this scarlet angel from God had saved me and had taken me to a place for me to live with her. This was a dream, a prayer, a heartfelt wish come true. I took a deep breath and wrenched the curtains back.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" the woman asked from behind me, as she watched my face glaze with longing. I nodded half-heartedly, my widened eyes admiring the most elegant and splendid building any person could lay eyes on in the entire world. Pale brown sandstone built it from the foundations up, rooftops and towers tiled with teal slate. Large windows welcomed light inside, and a pair of beautiful French double doors stood erect and tall to allow heartfelt entrance to any visitor. I saw we had journeyed up a long path between gardens and bushes abundant with white roses. Even in winter there was green and life all around. My weak lips slowly curled upwards in a smile, my eyes flicking everywhere to discover something new.

"This is the manor of the dear Earl, Ciel Phantomhive,"

Ciel? That was such a beautiful name… A beautiful name to befit such a beautiful manor. I just wondered if he might be, too. Not that it mattered to me, of course. Having lived a life such as mine you found that handsome men could have the ugliest intentions… I shivered, my blood boiling both hot and cold at the memory. Locked in a cage…my clothes ripped and torn from my body… What was his name? He was a Lord, I knew… All I remembered was long blonde hair, laughter… It was something like Al—

"I am his Aunt, Angelina Durless," The woman's voice interrupted my vicious memory, and I turned to look at her, fixing her with my large blue eyes. "Known to many, including my darling nephew, as Madame Red," The name suited her well. One look was proof enough of that. _I wish I could tell her_… Oh, how I _did _wish. "I'm visiting him for his birthday, tomorrow," A sudden thought struck her, "But what's your name, child? I don't believe I've asked," I looked at her for a painful moment. My heart felt like it was ripping itself in two for despair. I tore my eyes sadly away and stared out the window. My mouth was hanging open, completely silent. I sniffed, turning away so she couldn't see me wipe away the tear that threatened to fall. "Oh, I'm sorry," Red said gently, shifting along the comfortable seat and cupping my head in her arm to stroke my hair lovingly. "I understand. You're probably still frightened of me, aren't you? Or perhaps you're just shy? Oh, do forgive me, darling," I nodded sadly. It was true, I was still a little afraid and I had always been a nervous person. I didn't know anything about myself, or my real life, and my shyness and fear of the world were only strengthened by all those nights I was cornered by men in the alleyways of London…

I wiped my eyes clear again. That was the past, and I had to be strong. Life could be different with this woman, this mysterious Madame Red, and this young Earl Phantomhive. I couldn't help but ponder again what he might be like. I only presumed him young because Red herself couldn't be very much older than perhaps forty at most. If so then he might very well be within a year of my age…

The man with long hair appeared by the window, and a moment later the door was pulled open and a smart set of maroon steps had been pulled down to hover an inch from the ground.

"Mistress," He extended a hand for Red, who took it daintily and treaded lightly down with her ruffled red skirt hitched up with the other hand. Once outside she adjusted her wide-brimmed hat and turned to me with a smile.

"Come, my dear," She reached to take both my hands and helped me out. I stood there, as if rooted to the spot, staring up at the glorious manor with wide eyes. What with my blistered bare feet, tattered dress with colour all saturated but for dirt and blood and thigh-length knotted silver hair, I must have looked like vermin to be eliminated from the very presence of such a house. The gravel underfoot pricked at my toes, and I winced, but made no sound of discomfort. _Of course, how could I? _my brain added as a bitter afterthought. All the same she noticed, the angel that she was. "Grell, the young lady is in pain. Carry her, will you?"

"Of course, Mistress." He made for me, but my eyes widened and narrowed. I darted away, snatching the knife from behind my tattered bustle; I had had enough men touch me for a lifetime. I didn't want him to so much as breath on me. He raised his hands above his head, but I continued to direct the blade at him with eyes narrowed in cerulean malice. If any man so much as laid a finger on me again I would hurt them, so much they would never look at a woman with the same lustful eyes for a second time. I growled menacingly from the back of my throat, like a dog being approached by a hated master. The man, Grell, flicked a worried look over to Madame Red.

"Child, be calm," she said in a soothing voice, and I brashly turned my head to her. Calm? I could never be calm, not when there was a man to touch me in such a way. _But, of course_- I told myself – _she would never know that, would she?_ I sighed shamefacedly and meekly bowed my head and heart, slowly lowering the knife. She beckoned me to her, and put her arm about me to walk up the ornately carved stone front steps. "You must be a wary girl, to pull knives on a good woman's servant,"

_You don't know the half of it, my Lady_. _But I could never tell you…_ My feet sighed as they trod upon the cool, smooth stone. I almost smiled myself.

"Your life must have been a difficult one,"

_Indeed. But you'll never learn of it, will you?_ I saw a thin shadow moving behind the double doors. Something inside me felt uneasy, and I clenched my fingers around my rusted knife.

"Perhaps, when you grow to trust me, you might tell of it?"

"Nng," I mumbled, shaking my head sadly. Before she could open her mouth to speak again the door was pulled open by a thin figure dressed smartly in black. I saw a glint of red eyes, and instantly there was something I knew was not right. This man, this man dressed in black with hair dark as night – _he_ was not right. Something triggered within me to act, recklessly or not. I broke free of Red and dived at the man, brandishing my knife straight at his heart. He didn't move or run, his only action being to stoop into a graceful bow and raise a white-gloved hand to his chest. Had he not seen me? Any other man would shout, or leap aside at least; I had learned that from my past alleyway encounters, after wresting the blade from a drunken man who had taken too kindly to my body.

"Child, stop!" Red cried, trying to grab me. But something had already jarred my blade…but it wasn't the man's heart. It was his hand. I stood there, quivering with both anger and fear, as I tried to push the knife deeper but it didn't move by even half an inch. I gritted my teeth, panting, and glowered up at the man. A smirk was playing his thin lips, coldness echoing across his complexion, pallid as the moon. Those red eyes were fixed on me with interest and also amusement; my blade was stuck firmly between two of his closed fingers, keeping it there as easily as if I were no more than a winter breeze. "Sebastian…"

The man in black turned his head to her, changing that bitter smirk into a polite smile.

"Ah, Miss Durless," he said in a very cool voice, perfectly calm and with elocution of the King himself. How could he behave this way when I had just made to kill him? "You made it, and…" He diverted his gaze to me, and I scowled, giving a violent tug on my knife. "…you even managed to find yourself a new toy; how positively marvellous," _A toy, am I? I'll show you_! I raised a hand and whipped it to his face, but in one calm, fluid motion he had hold of it and was keeping it steady in the air by his shoulder. "A dance, my dear? Truly, I'm flattered, but my master dislikes them so,"

_A dance? My hand was there to slap you, not to be taken up for a waltz!_

"Sebastian, please," Red said imploringly, taking me by the waist and pulling me away; my knife slipped from my hand to be left between Sebastian's two fingers. "I found this girl alone, unwell and positively dying on the roadside," I continued to glare at him, the man I supposed – from his attire – must be a butler of some sort. "As we passed in the carriage I was gazing out of the window when I saw her looking up at me, and I immediately presumed her to be Ciel," Sebastian considered me for a long moment, his scarlet eyes scouting my face.

"She wears the same expression as the young Lord," he smirked, and my scowl intensified. "But for the gender, I may see your logic," Red nodded, rubbing a hand up and down my arm.

"Naturally, out of concern for my dear nephew," she continued, "I ordered Grell to stop the carriage and raced to find him – well, _her_. She was suspicious and frightened of me, presenting the same greeting she addressed to you, but she was wounded and agreed to let me help her," I slowly turned my gaze away from the black butler, flicking to my leg and away. "So far she hasn't said a word; nothing of her name, nor story, nor family origins. Just a nod or shake of the head,"

"Indeed?" Sebastian inquired, looking me slowly up and down. With his eyes scouting me as so many men had done before I bared my teeth angrily. He chuckled once under his breath, smirking as if enjoying my anger. "For all her beauty she does not like to be looked at," 'For all my beauty'? I had been told that too often for it to be a compliment… "I think it best I do not return this, for now," He said, tucking my knife within his jacket. I narrowed my eyes, bristling. "For fear she may try to kill dear Finnian, should the fool compliment her,"

"Never mind that now, Sebastian," Red said irritably, "This young woman cannot be a month younger than my nephew, yet she has had hardships a thousand whatever he may get up to,"

"Oh, somehow I doubt that," Sebastian said cryptically.

"Be that as it may," Red narrowed her eyes, "I demand that she may at least be allowed to spend the night in our company," Sebastian raised his eyebrows, but she did not crumble. "I have no children of my own, and nor does Ciel have a friend in the world but the Lady Elizabeth. I intend to raise this child with this household's help or no. For now do nothing more than to have Mey-rin run a hot bath and tell your master that I _will_ have my way; at least until tomorrow, when he may at last come of age and do as he pleases," Sebastian allowed himself a laugh, a laugh without mirth nor cruelty.

"Of course…" he said coolly, and I tentatively looked up at the red woman whosoever may now call me 'daughter'. Truly she was an angel, like Zion to fight and to love. I allowed myself a weak smile, which she returned. A mother… I couldn't remember having a mother before. But, then again, all my life seemed to be a knot that nothing could unravel to find sense within. I knew I had one once, or else how could I have been born? I prayed never to be with child for fear the same horror may happen again. Sebastian turned and motioned us to follow inside.

"Come," Red whispered gently and the two of us entered through the high double doors after the mysterious black butler. The entrance hall was beautiful, marble floors and columns so polished I could see my own reflection. I grimaced, trying to neaten my skirts and untangle my hair as I walked; what sort of impression would this vagabond girl, who tried to kill his butler, make upon this young Earl Phantomhive?

"Mey-rin?" the butler said in a loud voice, and instantly there was a loud crash in the distance. He cleared his throat as raised his voice. "Ahem…Mey-rin!" A door burst open and a maid came hurrying towards us, large round glasses skew-if and wine-coloured hair flying behind her. She skidded as she tried to stop, but ended up falling forwards with a scream into Sebastian. He didn't so much as get knocked back, instead just holding her in his arms without a sound.

"Oh!" Mey-rin stuttered, hastily pulling away and straightening her glasses. Her face was flushing as red as her hair. "So sorry, Sebastian! I was putting away the china when you called, I was just too eager to help, you see?"

"Indeed," Sebastian said without much interest. Mey-rin tittered like a nervous bird, looking anywhere but at Sebastian. She caught sight of me behind him, and hastily ducked into a bow.

"Master Ciel!" she cried into the floor, and I stared at her for a moment. "I didn't know you still liked dressing like that for infiltration! I must say you l—" Then she paused, looking up with great confusion. "But… M-Master Ciel, you just had your tea two minutes ago…"

"Never mind the little Lord's habits, Mey-rin," Sebastian said, picking her up and setting her on her feet. "Just go and run him a nice hot bath, alright?"

"Y-Yes, Sebastian!" She snapped into a formal salute, "Of course! Anything you say, Sebastian!" She turned and hurried off back through the door she had entered by. Sebastian rolled his eyes and started away. We followed him up a flight of dark cherry-wood steps, but I paused to see a large plain patch of wall where presumably a very grand painting must have hung. I questioned the absence, for without it the vestibule – while still handsome – seemed rather empty indeed.

"Miss?" Sebastian called, and I turned my head to see the two at the top of the stairs. The smirk had returned to his thin lips. I realised I had been standing still the whole time, just staring at a blank patch of wall. "Do you wish to bathe in private, or would you prefer to do so on the staircase?" I blushed, and, scowling a little, hitched up my tattered skirts and hurried up the grand stairs towards them. I kept shooting dirty glances at his back as we proceeded down a long corridor, fine oak doors on either side. One was open, close to the far end a few down from the next staircase. "I must confer with my Lord, now. Madame Red, if you would care to explain the situation yourself?"

Sebastian quickened his pace and disappeared through the open doorway. Madame Red turned to me.

"I promise I'll let you stay, child," she said, "Ciel will like you, I'm sure of it," I didn't answer. _Of course, how could I_? All I could do was look rather lost and afraid. "The master bathroom is just up that staircase, third door on your left. Will you be alright on your own?" I paused but then nodded. "And remember, you can always call for Mey-rin if you want something,"

_No, I can't_…

She kissed my forehead and smiled kindly, taking my hand as we continued to walk. As we drew nearer she gave it a small clenched before letting go and turning in. I stopped beside the doorway, steeling myself to walk on in this unfamiliar house on my own. And everything was so beautiful; the lady, the house, the gardens, and – though I hated myself for thinking so – even the butler had an attractive charm about him. I felt like a dirty little rat to infiltrate this manner, that the floor I walked upon was now tainted with commoner's muck. As though I had just become a plague upon the life of this young Earl. Ciel Phantomhive… Was he kind? Would he allow me to say, for the night in the least? How young might he be? Was he handsome, like all the rest of this new world seemed? I didn't know. I sighed and leaned by back on the wall beside the doorway. I stared up at a chandelier, hardened wax frozen mid-drip so it seemed a yellowed waterfall.

"What do you want, Madame Red?" The voice was young, but oddly tired and cold. It had something to it, like years of sadness or regret weighing it down like boxes of chains. Slowly, slowly, I turned my head to peer just an inch around the doorframe. My long hair fell like a curtain to a few feet from the floor, and out the corner of one bright blue eye I saw a boy of about seventeen sitting behind a grand cherry-wood desk in a throne-like armchair of dark material. I was instantly deaf to the words exchanged. His hair was the same charcoal as mine, with an almost bluish tint to the neatly cropped strands. He was looking up at Madame Red with one clear sapphire eye, the other covered half by fringe and mostly a sleek black leather eye-patch. He was thin, but tall. His face was thin also, with finely chiselled features of an oddly handsome design. _Yes…_ I thought to myself. This Earl was beautiful, like the rest of his estate and his train. His world seemed the most perfect thing of humanity.

I sighed quietly as I gazed at him, and Sebastian – by some feat of inhuman hearing – turned his head in my direction. The young Earl Phantomhive flicked his eye to where his butler gazed, and a frown came to his face as he saw the innocent-looking girl mostly hidden in the doorway. My eyes widened, cheeks flushing, and I hitched up my skirts to hurry away to the stairs. Ciel slightly narrowed his eye, reverting it to his scarlet Aunt.

"She's the girl, I presume?" he asked.

"Yes, Ciel," Madame Red replied. He fixed her with an intent one-eyed stare. Silence descended upon the room for a while. Ciel took a sip of his tea, a finger sticking out in the proper Noble way. He pushed back his chair and stood up, crossing his arms behind his back and turning to look out of the ornate window behind his desk.

"She is quite beautiful," he said in a low voice, inwardly weighing down his options. In truth be believed me to be a girl of fair attraction, which caused him to absently rub at the silver engagement ring upon his finger. "Elizabeth may become quite jealous." At this he allowed himself a small smile, one of the first for years. He turned his dark head to the red woman behind him. "Alright. She can stay."


	2. Broken Thorns

Mey-rin was humming to herself as I pushed open the third door on the left. I saw her back as she stoked the flames in a magnificent fireplace. She hadn't heard me enter, and I took the moment to turn my head about the room. It was every bit as splendid as the rest of the manor. Walls and floors tiled in sleek black, a white marble fireplace against the far wall. In the centre of the room was a large porcelain tub, filled with clear water that produced steaming dragons to fly in coils to the rest of the room; they breathed their fire upon the large mirror to span an entire wall, fogging the much-polished glass so the maid didn't see me even when she straightened up. A Venetian changing screen was in the corner, by a rack full a-fold with clean white towels vaguely scented with lavender. A well-scrubbed silver basin protruded from the far wall, a row of neatly arranged soaps lined beside it like a troupe of waxy soldiers.

I walked slowly forwards with the smallest smile. Truly, everything in this Earl's world was crafted by angels to live amongst men; but then again…his name did mean 'Heaven'. In my distraction the door swung shut loudly, and the maid jumped a foot high in shock with an unearthly screech. Her glasses fell to the floor with a tinkle, and I stooped to my knees to pick them up. Mey-rin stopped, hand extended an inch from mine to take them herself, and stared at me. I held the spectacles up to her, smiling awkwardly. She took them tentatively and placed them on her nose. Her eyes were a really rather lovely brown, though through the thick lenses she always wore they didn't seem to have much colour at all.

"Th-thank you," she said weakly, and I nodded my head once. It was all I could do for reply. She looked closer at me, leaning her head left and right, and my eyes slowly followed her every movement. Well, just the one eye – the other was covered by a curtain of long charcoal hair as it fell lank about my face. Conveniently the masked eye was the same as Ciel's, causing further confusion to Mey-rin. "Well…b-bathe well, then," She bustled to the door, frowning, and I turned my head to watch after her. "…Master…" she added uncertainly, before disappearing down the corridor.

For a moment I didn't move, still kneeling on the floor with tattered skirts draping about my feet and across the tiles. The only sound was the steady crackling of the fire spitting sparks and flames to earn my attention. I rose to my feet and closed the door, bolting it firmly and testing the lock. It held, leaving me satisfied of no disturbance nor company – of which I wanted neither. I felt no need for the changing screen, instead tugging at the wasted lacing of my bodice to loosen it, and pulling the ties from their holes. I stared resolutely away as I drew the fabric from my body, dust and mud spattered and dried across my skin. I didn't want to see them - not at all; the wounds that spoke of my past with malicious remembrance.

Dropping my clothes to the floor on the hearth I stepped into the steaming tub. I didn't have to look to know they were there – at the sensation of warmth, heat, wonderful balm the scars and scratches and slices in my skin peeled loose from their scabs and screamed in pain. I bared my teeth and clenched my eyes, forcing to sink into submersion. I lay in that oversized white cradle, water enveloping my body and burning at the bruises and sores that had tormented me so. I groaned, sinking lower so only my face was above the surface, my long hair swirling about me like dark weeds in a river. The water was already faintly brown and red, and I slowly rubbed my hands across my skin to relieve the mud that had been a part of me for as long as I could remember; my scars whined in displeasure as I touched them.

I heard him then, his voice like the whip he had used on me, echoing laughter through my skull. Suddenly my body seized, hands clenching white on either side of the tub, my eyes widening. I was panting, staring up at the ceiling with fright, until I slowly came to realise that he couldn't follow me here. He could never find me… My breaths calmed, before my pale lids began to languidly reach for the other. They embraced in a lock of lashes, and the red lacerations to paint my body the most morbid artwork prickled. It was his words, when he whispered them, that bewitched me to his cruelty. I let out a long breath, my hand tracing laboriously the bruises up my thigh, my stomach, my breast, until my fingers found the white scar to run - ring-like – around my neck. The slightest indent, like a hollow cavity in metalwork, which had been there since I had 'woken up'…

Slowly – with the warm tenderness of the water and the gentle quietness to fill the room - my body fell into the ease of flaccidity, my eyes flickering behind my closed lids as they ran about within their dream.

* * *

_"Oh, but if you're bored again, then I know of many ways to entertain…" He had grabbed the girl with those surprisingly strong hands, pressing his mouth to her neck and biting her plane skin. She crumbled beneath him to the floor, cringing away so her back pressed against the cold iron bars – she could feel their rust and icy touch through the mottled fabric of her shift. "I could keep you in this cage, just to look at, but then again…Locked in there all day and night, with nothing but pretty little dolls to play with in your pretty little hands…" His seized her own – manacled so tightly welts rose on her skin - drowning them in a shower of kisses intermingled with crushes of teeth. Her eyes were scrunched shut, for sight was quite lost for all her silent tears. Her mouth opened and closed uselessly, blood slowly oozing from the red line across her smooth neck. He laughed coldly, sadistic mirth resonating within the cruel sound._

_ "Oh, little Heaven, little Heaven," he breathed, unhurriedly wrapping her Payne hair around his fingers in a loving sort of way. Her eyes slowly opened to look at him piteously, her lip trembling for all the blood it tasted – from the red stem of a brutal slash on her cheek – only to see his cobalt eyes alight with arduous glee. "I was always thinking, every time that I saw you…" He gave a sharp tug on her hair, causing her to gasp with pain as she was pulled up by her head to come an inch from his face. He wrapped her hair around his gloved hand, slowly – deliberately – relishing in every expression and cry of anguish the girl made, "…such a pretty little robin…" _

_ He extended a long tongue and licked the blood from her cheek. Her eyes clenched and she shivered, moaning weakly as she tried to pull away. "How can such chaste beauty reside in the body of a young boy? How, indeed…?" His head pulled back sharply with the flick of blonde hair in the dull candlelight from above. "The same thought directed to you… But, since I couldn't have __**you**__, I suppose a 'toying' little robin might make a close second," He extracted a thin knife from the inside of his jacket._

_ "Now then…" he said softly, holding the glittering blade to her face. Her eyes snapped open at its cool touch, and they immediately flicked downward to see it resting against her skin. "If little robins cannot sing, then why don't we find out if they can scream?_"

My eyes snapped open as the blade slashed for me in the dark, hearing the terrible, yowling shriek that burst from me echoing times a thousand through my head. Water cascaded noisily as my body snapped upright, hands flying to my neck. I crossed my arms across my chest and rocked myself like a small child, causing waves to spread back and forth and to toss about my shivering form. Heart thumping in my throat and breaths uncontained and terrified, I could feel the blood coursing through me in terror at the nightmare; the memory.

I moaned, clapping my hands over my eyes and feeling the hot prickle of tears down my cheeks. My body was burning as the scars reminded me of their existence, the cause of sadistic knives and whips and chains. Within that cage, in that dark room, where he called me his 'little robin'… But just who was he? For my own life I couldn't remember his name properly… It was something strange, but I knew it began with—

"Miss?" An insistent knocking caused me to jump, whipping around to stare at the door. "A bed has been prepared for you," It was the butler, the mysterious man in black who took my knife. I scowled at the dark wood as I thought of it in his pocket…in the same place another much like it had once been… I rose and stepped out of the tub to the smooth tiles, walking to retrieve a towel. Water dripped all across the floor behind me, my hair sodden and clinging down my back to my thighs. As I wrapped the towel about me I turned and saw the large pool of water was a murky brown tinted with red. I couldn't quite suppress a grimace; in all truth, I had been a filthy creature. It was with no doubt that one look at me from the Earl must have truly repulsed him. I bent and picked up my pile of crumpled clothes, and turned for the door.

But, before I could reach it, it swung open and I froze. I had heard nothing; no bashing against it or shoot of the bolt - not the slightest disturbance at all. And yet there he stood, tall and sallow and smirking, the ever-stoic butler, Sebastian. At my look of both shock and horror to his entrance he fixed me with a condescending smile.

"Miss, if you would follow me to your room, now," he said coolly, stooping into a bow before turning down the corridor. I chanced a look behind me, to the tub filled with brackish water, and followed. Tiny droplets fell from my legs and hair onto the floorboards, my bare feet gently slapping the polished surface as I allowed Sebastian to lead me up another staircase to the final tenanted floor of the manor. The tall black butler took me down the right-hand landing, and – peering out from behind him – I saw a rickety black door which hung slightly ajar. I could see an old staircase behind it. Before I could begin to wonder what it was Sebastian turned his dark head to look at me; I hastily snapped my head away from the door to look at him. The door slammed shut, and I jumped. The butler turned his head forwards again, renewed mirth in his smirk. He blinked once and the bolt behind the unbalanced door slid shut.

"Here," He pushed open a door for me and bowed, extending an inside for me to enter. "Provisional clothes have been laid out on the bed," I turned around the room, but didn't have much time to take anything in before Sebastian continued, "I must see my Master to sleep. Good night," He bowed again, and I sighed before looking at the large four-poster bed – a white linen shift had been laid out neatly, strips of black velvet hemming the neck-line before tying in a bow. I hadn't noticed as Sebastian turned right about and knocked upon the door directly opposite. "Master?"

"Come in, Sebastian," a voice called in reply from the other side of the door. The butler obediently pushed open the door, and I turned my head to see Ciel standing by the window in a silk nightshirt which fell to just above his knees. I flushed a little pink and trod quietly to the door to close it, and Sebastian walked over to his Master and began unpicking the knot which secured his eye-patch. He unfastened it, but it slipped and Ciel clapped a hand to his eye; I paused in the act of closing the door to stare at him. "Aargh! Damn it, Sebastian!"

"I deeply apologise, Master," He sank into a bow upon one knee, head hanging low. "How can I ever atone?"

"Just be more careful next time," Ciel muttered, dropping the sleek black patch upon a table beside his king-size four-poster and massaging his eye socket. He sucked air through clenched teeth so his next words were a hiss, "You'll damage the Seal, if you aren't careful,"

"Yes, Master. Forgive me, Master,"

"Oh, be quiet," the boy muttered irritably, "Enough, already. I—" But then he caught sight of me, half-hidden behind an almost-closed door, with legs bare to the knee and hair hanging loose and damp. He barely had time to register so much as a single scratch before my face had flushed scarlet and I slammed the door shut, and pressed my back to it. Of course, it was only too convenient for my bedroom to be directly opposite _his_…

In the room across the way, Ciel Phantomhive was still staring with a slightly misted expression. The slightest of smiles half tweaked his lip, and he slowly lowered the hand he held to his eye. It shone in the dim light of the three-pronged candlestick on the table by the window, mauve and scintillating; a violet pentagram with silver stars glittering in a ring all around in a perfect circle. Sebastian couldn't help but smirk; humans were so very predictable. Ciel caught sight of it and scowled.

"Stop sneering at me, Sebastian!" he spat, "That's an order!" His lavender eye glowed for a moment and instantly Sebastian's face retuned to its usual handsome mask of perfect serenity and stoic silence. "That's better…" Ciel turned and drew back the luxuriant covers of his bed, and sat down on the mattress – one leg bent beneath him and the other hanging down over the edge. There was silence for a long moment, where the young Earl thought deep and hard.

"Good night, my young Lord," He bowed low and, as he straightened up, picked up the three-pronged candlestick and turned for the door. "I wish you good dreams on the eve of your birthday," Ciel's face paled.

"Of course…" he breathed, staring at the floor. His lips barely moved as he spoke. "How could I forget? It was eight years ago, now…" He reached with slightly trembling fingers to feel the faint welts of the burn on the left-hand side of his back. He hardened, eyes glazing angrily. "Tomorrow I become a man…" He bent his head with a sigh and closed his eyes, gripping a hand on the mattress linens. "I already gave up the hopes of a happy birthday. This time will be no different," He thought again, and once more his fingers traced the burn beneath his nightshirt. His head slowly tilted upwards.

"Sebastian…" His butler paused as he set one foot outside in the corridor, turning to surveyed his Master with a diligent gaze. Ciel met his eyes; bluish-mauve to red. "…make sure she's welcome here,"

"Of course," He bowed, reaching for the door handle. "My young Lord," Ciel nodded once, and Sebastian pulled he door shut with a click. He stood in the corridor between the two bedrooms, flicking red eyes from one side to the other. A knowing smile played his thin lips, and he began to walk down the corridor. "If I couldn't do that much…" He stopped just before turning the staircase to head down, looking back at my door. His smile widened. "…what kind of butler would I be?" He blew out the three candles in a whirl of white smoke.


	3. Fresh Petals

I couldn't remember ever sleeping so soundly. Then again, I couldn't remember ever sleeping in a bed; the floor of a cage, a sewage-strewn street or a freezing roadside, but never in such comfort as I had just found. Not even the nightmares of the last five years dared to bother me as I lay peacefully upon that heavenly white mattress. It was warm, and soft, with nothing to trouble me but the swirling mists of sleep behind my closed eyes. Time seemed to forget itself, and lay down with me to watch the stars eddying about in the skies of my dreamless doze.

But, as with all good things, it had to end.

"Ciiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeel!"

I was woken to such a loud shriek of pure delight and thundering footsteps that I had bolted upright before my eyes had even opened. I reached instinctively for my knife, groping and swiping around before fully remembering with a quiet sigh. Blood surged to my head, and I gritted my teeth as I slumped back against the ornately carved bedstead. I rubbed at my eyes and forehead stiffly; that noise was extremely reminiscent of the scream made by a rabbit whose unsuspecting neck had been clamped by the pointed teeth of a smiling fox on the winter roadside – except this was much louder and seemed to last an infinite time longer.

The footsteps – and the overjoyed cries of the person attached to them – continued to pound all the way up the staircase, along the corridor in my direction, and finally the door opposite was thrown open; two loud thuds suggested heavy bags or trunks.

"Ciel! _Ciel_!" I clapped my hands over my ears to keep my head from splitting in agony. By God, she was loud; I realised the voice belonged to a girl. Her footsteps continued across the room and then I heard the loud creak and bounce of many springs – presumably she'd thrown herself onto the bed.

"Aargh!" Ciel shouted, and I guessed – correctly - he had been jerked wildly awake as I had. "Sebastian, help m—Elizabeth!?"

"Who else would I be, silly?" the girl, Elizabeth, giggled. "And how many times have I told you just to call me Lizzy?" Ciel sighed, and more bedsprings sounded as he sat up, reaching around his bedside table for the sleek black eyepatch. Then Elizabeth squealed excitedly, "Ooh, Ciel! Let me do it! It's the least I can do for you on your birthday!"

"No," His voice sounded harsh and cold, instantly silencing her giggles. The smile had fallen from her face. Ciel hastily put the patch over his purple-pentagram eye and tied the cords behind his head. "I won't let anyone but Sebastian do that,"

"B-but, Ciel…"

"No-one,"

Silence ensued, and I slowly pushed back the luscious duvet covers before sliding my legs over the edge of the broad mattress. I heard muffled sniffling from Elizabeth, and s small sob, before Ciel sighed.

"Oh, Lizzy, I'm sorry," he said gently. "It's just not a pretty sight, you understand? I…_lost_ my eye all those years ago, and I don't want you to see something like that," I paused in the act of standing up – he'd lost his eye? How dreadful… Though I knew of far worse afflictions; I'd been unfortunate enough to sample some in my lifetime. I shivered, and at the horrid memory the cuts on my arms began to ache and burn again. I heard Elizabeth sniffle again, but she seemed as though she was trying to pull herself back together.

"It's alright, Ciel," she said, "I understand. I promise I won't do it again,"

"Lizzy…" He sighed. "I just think you're too pretty to be seeing something even the slightest bit ugly," She gasped, and began giggling as she jumped up and down on the mattress – the bedsprings whined indignantly.

"You're so adorable!" she cried, flinging her arms around his shoulders so tight the breath was choked out of him. "Why can't you be like this all the time, Ciel? I bet it's just because you're happy that it's your birthday, and I'm here with you!" I heard the creak of bedsprings again as she jumped to her feet, and the scrape and bump of the two cases as she picked them up. ""And that reminds me of your present, and the clothes that we've got you, too!" She started for the door. "I'll just put these in my room and—"

I turned. There she was in the doorway, a large bag in either hand, her eyes wide as she stared at me. She was dressed in a pale orange dress like marigolds with a large ruffled skirts belling out from a rather wide bustle. Truly she was quite pretty; hair in golden curls like sunshine to frame her smooth face and coil down her back, large green eyes like dew-washed clovers and a very light dusting of freckles across her cheeks. A cowslip of yellow fringe slipped down from an orange ribbon, a little curl at its tip. Colour crept across her face, and she dropped the bags with two loud thuds.

"Ciel, who's this?" she said coldly, looking suspiciously at the girl in a nightdress.

"Oh, Jesus," I heard Ciel mutter under his breath as he threw off the bed-covers and hurried to the doorway. We locked eyes for the briefest moment, before both of us determinedly looked at something inanimate. "She's jus-just—er,"

"Why is she in my room?"

"Lizzy, just calm down, she's my …um…"

"Ciel, tell me!" She folded her arms moodily, and scowled. It was surprising how such a sweet and mild face could become so ugly so fast. It was evident she didn't approve of a girl half-naked in a shift, in _her_ room, sleeping in _her_ bed, and—"Why is she all covered in bruises? What's been going on?"

"Nothing!" The dark silverette tried to assure her, putting an arm about her shoulders. "Lizzy, I'm telling you it's nothing! This is just…" My eyes flicked back to him. _Say I'm a relative_, I begged him silently. I focussed my full attention to my eyes and transfixed his. _I'm a distant cousin; Don't say you found me on the road. Don't._ It seemed as though he caught on. "Lizzy, this is an old family friend of my Aunt," He shot a furtive look at the girl beside him, before mouthing, '_Help me_!' I froze, eyes widening slightly. Oh, how I wished I could. I crumbled and fixed him with the most repentant look I could give, feebly biting my lip. Elizabeth considered me, eyes scouting me up and down.

"Well, why didn't you say so, silly?" she giggled, clapping her hands and racing forwards. She clasped my hands in hers, beaming; Ciel breathed a sigh of relief, pressing his back against the doorframe. "Oh, and you're so pretty, too! And now I have someone to play dress-up with!" My teeth bit down harder on my lip; she wasn't going to want to play with a girl dressed in bloody rags. Just then I chanced a look in the direction of the window-seat, where I had dumped my dress in a heap before falling onto the bed in my incredibly clean– and surprisingly well-fitting – shift. Only, now that I looked, I saw that they were nowhere to be seen.

"Pardon me," The familiar, unwavering voice of the black butler came from the doorway. We all turned to see Sebastian stooped in an elegant bow beside his scowling young Master. "Do forgive my intrusion. Welcome, Lady Elizabeth; I see you have already befriended our guest,"

"Where in Heaven's name have you been?" Ciel hissed, and Sebastian visibly flinched. He bent his sleek black head to Ciel's.

"Master, could you kindly refrain from mentioning that awful place? Really, you may incur great pains to my head,"

"No more than you deserve," Ciel reverted his gaze to the two girls holding hands; one was beaming at the other, who was scowling at the sallow man smirking at her from the doorway. "Now tell me where you were, just now; you didn't even _try_ to stop her from coming upstairs,"

"I apologise, my young Lord," Sebastian said, bending to one knee and bowing his head. "I was merely seeing to the young Lady's clothes…" His red gaze slipped slowly sideways to fix mine. "…just the smallest speck of dirt," My scowl intensified, and his smirk did so to mirror it. "I gave them to Mey-rin, and somehow they ended up being acquainted better than most to the parlour fire,"

My clothes had been burnt away to a cinder. How very marvellous. Although I did suppose I'd never dream of wearing them in such a house, in the first place.

"How horrible for you!" Elizabeth cried, turning back to me with a horrified look in those wide green eyes. "Oh, and I bet your dress must have been lovely, too!" I very much doubted she would have kept that same opinion had she seen me yesterday. "But don't worry, because you're my new best friend, and I'll give you one of the prettiest dresses I have with me! Paula!" I hard another set of footsteps, light but faintly staggering, and a woman appeared in the doorway; Sebastian stepped away for her to pass, and she shot a grateful smile. Her arms were laden with a teetering assortment of bags, which made light tinkling music as they were shook.

"Jingle…jingle…jin—yes, my Lady?" I noticed there were bells like bracelets wound about the bag handles. "Where should I put—oh…hello," She's spotted me, just as she tried to set down the tower of baggage.

"You can just put them opposite, Paula," Elizabeth said pleasantly, smiling at Ciel with a playful wink as he had to be pulled aside by his butler to allow the maid into his room without permission. "I'm sure Ciel won't mind if his own fiancée shares a room with him," He momentarily opened his mouth as if in objection, but a stern look from Sebastian caused him to falter. He scowled. My mouth dropped a little bit open. He was engaged? For whatever reason the smallest lump rose in my throat, and I swallowed hard to subdue it. It was persistent, so I chose to ignore it. For God's sake, I'd only just _met_ the boy; even for all his kindness he was nothing to me. Just because he had a pretty face, and…my eyes subconsciously flicked him up and down–No. _Stop_ it! Just…stop.

I let out an exasperated sigh at my own stupid mind. I'd had enough men in my life for ten women combined, and I most certainly didn't need myself to fall for yet another. Let alone one engaged to such a charming, most definitely alive and well, young girl. If I had been alone I might have slapped myself to get some logic into my senseless head. Ciel had heard my loud breath, and he looked at me for a long moment.

"Sebastian," he said wearily, "I need to get dressed. Come," And he turned without another word to re-enter his bedroom. Sebastian closed the door after Paula as she left.

"Oh, he's so boring, isn't he?" Elizabeth giggled, leading me to sit beside her on the plush window-seat. "Now, Paula can you pick out a dress from the bags? Some with my other dresses are in Ciel's room, but I have a few in these as well," Paula smiled and bent to pick up the bags, and she put them on the bed to open. "Ooh! And I can brush your hair, can't I?" Elizabeth tittered across the room to a sleek vanity table and she picked up a silver hairbrush, pausing a moment to fix her hair and pout her glossy lips before returning to me. "I must say it's lovely," she said as she twirled it around my fingers and began to brush.

I smiled at her. She was sweet, and quite cute in the way that very young girls are. But, of course, she was around my age. Then again she seemed a little older, nineteen at most, perhaps. She hummed and whistled as she wound her hands gently through my hair, brushing and brushing and brushing. It felt like years – well, it had been – since it fell so sleek and so smooth in their gentle curls down my back. Paula, over by the bed, was flicking her eyes between a pair of dresses – one light blue with puffy short sleeves and a wide skirt, or a very dark green with long sleeves and a fat skirt with black lace hems. Elizabeth pulled a white ribbon from her hair and tied my own with it, so it hung in a wavy waterfall down and over my shoulder on my right side; my long fringe covered my eye almost exactly like Ciel's.

"There," she proclaimed proudly. "All done!" I smiled at her, getting up and walking to the mirror to look at myself. My smile widened at the same time as my jaw falling open; the result of the combined two was not at all attractive in any sense of the word. Elizabeth giggled, clapping her hands with glee. "Paula! Have you picked one out, yet?"

"Not yet, my Lady," was the reply, and I turned my head from my own reflection to the long-haired maid standing with hands on hips in deep thought. Her brows were furrowed in consideration, and I walked over to join her; as did Elizabeth.

"Oh, definitely that one!" she cried, darting out and grabbing the light blue one. "Honestly, blue would suit you so much! It really suits Ciel, and you look a bit like him, so you should wear this one and you'll look positively gorgeous!" She beamed, nodding her head enthusiastically as she held it out. I paused. Truly, it was beautiful and of such a fine quality I could have cried just to touch it, but all the same…the sleeves were short and the neckline too low for my taste. Any number of my scars could be revealed, and I didn't want attentions or suspicions aroused. I didn't want questions I knew I couldn't answer; at this sentiment my heart gave an indignant wrench, as if not wanting to be reminded of my mute disposition. I opened my mouth, pretending that I liked it but had something to say, before turning my head to the other one. Elizabeth's face fell a little.

"Oh," she sighed, lowering the cobalt dress sadly. "You really prefer _that _one?" I nodded fervently as I reached for it, and she followed its progression with her mossy eyes. "I almost never wear that thing. It's simply not adorable enough for anything. Not cute in the slightest way, so I only really have it for boring occasions I'm not really supposed to dress up for. If you wanted to…you could have it," My eyes snapped to her, suddenly filled with tears. I could keep it? A present, I suppose it could be called. And, no matter what she said about it, I thought this dress like dark ivy was stunning. It was something I'd seen rich women wear as they walked by me on the street, lifting their skirts and treading daintily with their heeled boots to avoid my filth and discolour. But now I had the same as they did. Elizabeth was still smiling sweetly. I couldn't stop myself.

I threw my arms around her in such a tight hug I surprised even myself. Elizabeth giggled and hugged me back, before breaking away.

"Come on, Paula," she said, taking her maid by the hand and leading her for the door. "Let's leave her in peace, now. We can go finish setting up Ciel's birthday decorations! Oh, he'll be so surprised!" I smiled after her as she left, the door closing behind her. I sighed happily to myself, looking down at the marvellous jade dress in my hands. I'd never even imagined wearing something so fine as this. Even to hold it in my hands it was smooth and sleek and gentle against my skin. I saw no point to remove my shift, thin as it already was. And, being mid-winter, I needed any layer I could muster – for, even in this manor, a chill breeze might find its wait to pester and pinch at a person's skin. And so I passed the dress over my head and shoulders, un-tucking the skirt from its hitches and letting it cascade to my bare ankles. I was so incredibly soft and luscious, so fine and so light I felt positively naked from such lack of weight.

Lace cuffs tickled my skin, and I shimmied the slight rise of the bustle behind my hips to readjust it to its centre. I looked at myself in the vanity's mirror. Admired, to be precise. Never before had any soul, including myself, had called me beautiful. And yet I was. Standing in this fine room, in a fine dress, with fine hair and fine skin from bathing and cleansing every inch of skin; yes, I was beautiful. I laughed silently. How vain I had become, already. Truly, I was not far off from the women who so diligently avoided me in the street.

But then I stopped, my face instantly quite sober. My fingers traced up the skin of my neck, lightly fingering the ugly jagged red scar to run around it like the hangman's rope. It was something I never wanted anyone to see. I'd had it longer that I could remember, like a strange birthmark. Only birthmarks didn't reopen and bleed freely like at the slash of a barber's knife. This was the strangest oddity of all about me; all my other cuts and bruises had been gained from my dismal existence within that cage or upon the streets, but the single slash all the way around my neck in a continuous circle had been there forever. I didn't know anything about myself, if truth be told; no parentage, no family, no house, no ancestry nor even the simplest history. I only knew my own name. But I wasn't going to share it lightly. I only wanted to give it away to the people I knew I could trust with my whole heart. I'd lived a life – if that's what you could call it – of eternal pain and insecurities, so I wasn't about to shed my only possession to anyone; not now that my knife had been stolen from me.

I put that out of my mind, instead just looking back at my own reflection. If it weren't for that bloody scar I might look presentable. But what could I do about it?

I saw the corner of the black bow of my shift peeking out from the top of my dress, and suddenly I had an idea. I pulled up the fabric until I had it bunched in my hand. _Sorry, Ciel_, I thought to myself as I clamped my teeth around the black velvet ribbon and started a tear. I ripped the bow from its hem and pulled against its fastenings with a quiet rustle until I held a long straight black ribbon in my open palm. Smiling guiltily to myself I turned back to the mirror and fastened it around my neck in a knot, listing up my hair to work at the tie. When I was done I appeared to wear a simple yet elegant choker about my neck, covering completely the brash red scar upon my otherwise clear skin. Satisfied with my appearance I turned for the door. My feet were still bare, but should that even matter to be inside? I didn't want to ruin the floors to create even more work for any servant. If anything I might help them in their chores to better earn my keep…

My thoughts, however, were short-lived. I pulled open the door to find Sebastian doing the same to allow his Master exit.

"My Lord…" he said, but it was too late. We both had stepped out into the corridor, and I had walked straight into the young Earl Phantomhive. He was every bit as surprised as I, and in my haste to extricate myself in a blushing frenzy I trapped my foot amongst my skirts and whirled about before tumbling to the floor. Ciel, still part-way caught on me, was pulled down as well in a cry of shock. My head hit the floor and I groaned, gritting teeth and clenching eyes, before a body landed on top of me. My eyes snapped open to stare up into Ciel's, a mere couple of inches from my own. My face burned scarlet, and I watched his do the same. In the doorway Sebastian was smirking, "…do make sure to watch your step,"


	4. Sinful Red Blossoms

Ciel was on top of me, sprawled on the floorboards, a smirking butler standing in the doorway. I couldn't pay any attention to him, mind, for it seemed every cell within me was fighting a losing battle to keep my heartbeat under control. The heat of his quickened breaths warmed my face, already burning with an unruly blush. He was so close than if he had fallen an extra inch he would have kissed me; his lips hovered uncomfortably close to mine, quivering. The silver and black cane to have previously been held now lay a few feet apart by his butler's feet, the decorative mini top hat lopsided upon his Payne head.

Now I could see every tiny detail of his sculptural face, and up close he was more beautiful and more innocent than my first glance through the doorway: right eye covered by silky patch and smooth fringe, its counterpart was a clear and bedazzling blue – a sapphire glittering brighter than the most polished jewel on Victoria's illustrious crown; eyelashes outrageously long for a boy; his hair was sleek and dark, with tones under the light reminiscent of peacock feathers; a light stubble dotted his plane skin like residue from a paintbrush, stippled upon his chin to those well-defined cheekbones. He smelled vaguely of roses.

I had never imagined our first real meeting could have been so horribly intimate.

He was too beautiful for me to bear; I let out a tiny sigh, eyes fogging with dangerous poignancy as my heartbeat began to flutter still faster. In an instant I realised what was happening, and my mouth fell open in horror. Before any more thoughts of attraction could anchor me down, I all but threw Ciel from me and scrabbled to my feet to hasten down the corridor, shielding my scarlet face with a hand. For a moment Ciel stared up at the ceiling in blank-faced shock, only vaguely aware of my footsteps hurrying away down the stairs; that was the first time he'd been on top of a woman. A sickened feeling crawled into his stomach when he realised he hadn't completely hated it. Elizabeth's face flashed before his eyes, and he bolted upright.

"Damn it all," he hissed, getting to his feet and glowering at Sebastian. "'Make sure to watch your step.' Thank you _so much_ for that Sebastian, it was really some top quality advice." The butler bowed his head as he retrieved his Master's cane, proffering it forward. The silverette snatched it up, brushing down the front of his pale grey blazer. "What a marvellous morning I'm having; I've still got a headache from Lizzy's screaming, and now I can't even think straight. Come on," he added in an aggravated tone, starting down the corridor and all but smashing his cane against the floorboards with every pace.

"And a very happy birthday to you, Master," Sebastian said as he followed, smiling archly.

"Shut up," muttered Ciel, trying to ignore his butler. To him, birthdays were all but meaningless times of frivolity and a simple excuse to slack off of any work there may have been. Idle gifts were another thing entirely; no material possession could bring him any pleasure anymore. With an inward sigh of pain, Ciel imagined the only thing he could ever want; his parents. A man now, as all were at eighteen, but still the child lingered within his veiled heart – the child whose eyes and very soul were plagued by venomous flames, rising higher than the winds or the clouds, black smoke to coil poisonously within you and choking out the bright white rose of life with the painful obscurity of death.

When, at last, he had entered the main hall for breakfast he was met with a tumultuous roar from friends and servants alike. It was only myself to remain silent, for that was one of the loudest things I could procure. I was smiling vaguely, mind slipping occasionally in and out of focus as I watched him draw closer. On his way he was presented by a mountain of gifts, all of which he waved aside for Sebastian to take. Seating himself at the great, polished table he let out a tiny sigh.

"Happy birthday, Ciel!" Elizabeth tittered, jubilant and sweet as a baby robin, as she unlaced the black satin of his top hat to replace the accessory with a pink party bonnet, which I guessed – correctly – was of her own design. He made no effort to hide his disdain, but made no action to remove it, and so Elizabeth flung her arms around him and planted a shower of a thousand kisses on his cheek; hastily I averted my eyes, feeling the blush returning. My adoptive mother, the wonderful Madame Red, was beside me with an arm wrapped lovingly around my waist. I gently leaned my head on her shoulder, finding it immediately warm and soft.

"Yes, happy birthday, Master!" three unconventional voices cried.

"Ho…ho…ho…"

The three Phantomhive servants ducked into bows, holding enormous platters of food, flowers and gifts. Tanaka, the elderly and incredibly small servant, sat drinking tea from atop the highest wrapped present on the teetering tower held by Mey-rin; it was wobbling to a point of great hazard, but her face was split in a euphoric grin that couldn't be knocked away lightly. Finnian, the young golden-haired gardener to whom I had just been introduced, held the flowers, plucked that morning from the lavish gardens. What caught my eye most was a bunch of simply beautiful white roses, which seemed to glimmer iridescent in the cool light of the midwinter morning, streaming through the large windows. The manor's chef, Bardroy, held an enormous tray in either hand, now strain at all showing in his face; he was smiling as broadly as the rest of them, a chewed cigarette between his teeth. Grell, the long-haired butler of Duress, stood moping like a lanky stick-insect near the window; he was incredibly feeble in spirit, shy and hardly able to do so much as pour tea without sloshing it down himself – as I had just witnessed. I noticed he was watching the Phantomhive butler with awe, hands clasped tight together and mouth hanging ajar; his eyes were more than a little misted when Sebastian bent over to pick up a particularly large pile of boxes.

Soon the black butler had stacked all of Ciel's presents along one wall, perfectly coordinated to sections pertaining elements of both colour and size. With a clap of his white-gloved hands the three Phantomhive servants scurried all about the room, laying out more gifts, filling vases with flowers, throwing open the windows, setting out the cutlery and placing steaming plates of eggs, tarts, toast, marmalade and jam, bacon, bread soldiers, salad, fresh apples and oranges, tea and milk, freshly squeezed orange juice, coffee, little sweets in the shape of flowers, and – most importantly - an absolutely colossal chocolate cake, whose size could have put shame to even the Queen's throne, upon the table. It was no surprise to me when I heard it creaking with the sheer weight of it all.

Elizabeth took her seat beside Ciel, her – as I constantly kept reminding my stubborn mind – betrothed. Madame Red steered me to a seat, and sat down in her place opposite the beaming blonde girl…which could mean only one thing. As the five servants – Grell, Tanaka, Mey-rin, Finny and Bard – sat down with looks of sheer delight on their faces, I turned up my head to see myself directly opposed to Ciel. For a horrible moment our eyes connected, before – thankfully – my own were drawn away by the frantic blur that was Lizzy's waving hand. She was giggling profusely, bouncing up and down in her seat with excitement.

Everyone was seated in expectant silence, all eyes now on Ciel; he was still, unfortunately, lost and confused with his eyes vaguely settled on me. Sebastian bent his black head down to his Lord's ear.

"Master," he whispered. Ciel snapped back to himself, almost knocking over the teacup at his place.

"Aah! I – er - ahem…" He struggled to find words, causing Elizabeth to fall into a relapse of atrocious twittering laughter; it was infectious, and I began to giggle under my breath, too. At this, Ciel's face burned redder than my mother's hair.

"The Young Lord wishes you all dine accordingly, and that you enjoy your meal to its fullest," Sebastian said, smiling dryly with eyes slowly revolving from the top of Ciel's head to my face. "That you appreciate its flavour with the full…_intimacy_ with which it was made, this morning."

Finny began clapping enthusiastically, before Bard pushed his hands down in embarrassment.

* * *

Never in my life had I dreamed of eating so well, and with people I'd never imagined to consort with. The table that morning was bright with cheer upon Ciel's eighteenth birthday, filled with much giggling from Elizabeth, Red with more gossip than a whole court of ladies, and Finnian constantly wishing everybody to break into the odd verse of 'Happy Birthday to You'. It was the most enjoyable morning of my life, and by now I considered more than half the party my friends; in Elizabeth's book I'd already been scribbled in as half-sister.

The only thing to dampen my spirits was when my adoptive mother addressed me after what I think was my third helping of bacon and eggs.

"Frivolous lot, aren't we?" she laughed, sipping her tea and leaving a stain of red around its rim. "I do so love a good birthday party." I smiled sideways at her, raising my own cup to my lips. I'd begun to drink, when she added, "but when's _your_ birthday, dear?"

I choked, eyes momentarily bulging before I dropped my teacup; it cracked open as it hit the hardwood table, as I sprayed tea everywhere in the wild attempt to regain my breath. I clapped my hands in horror over my mouth when I realized what must have happened, before my heart lurched in shock.

Held before Ciel's face, shielding it from harm, was a handkerchief; Sebastian held it from each end, an inch before his Master's nose. The table was silent, and Ciel swatted his butler's hands away in annoyance. I stared at him, horror-struck at what I had done. He didn't seem angry, as I may have done.

"Are you alright?" he asked, finally. I stared at him in surprise. When I didn't reply he reached inside his blazer and withdrew a lace handkerchief with a flourish, holding it towards me with two fingers. "Here."

My eyes widened still further. I'd made myself look such a fool, and here he was offering me such a finery as if nothing had happened. Slowly, I lowered my hands to reveal the mouth that hung open still in reverent fear. I gingerly took the proffered token with slightly trembling fingers, just brushing his own; the smallest of half-smiles tweaked his lip, and suddenly it was all too much for me to bear. I pushed myself away from the table and hurried away through the open double doors, the handkerchief still clutched tight in my quavering fingers. The party of Phantomhives sat in shocked silence, exchanging worried and rather confused glances; Ciel and his butler were the only ones not to move.

Finally, Sebastian clicked his fingers at the three servants.

"You three," he said in a discompassionate voice, "tidy the table, and clean up; the Master has suffered these frivolities long enough, and has much work to attend to."

"Yes, sir, Mister Sebastian, sir!" The servants all saluted as they sprang readily to their feet. Immediately they began to gather as much as they could carry, haphazardly stacking plates and cups and vases one on top of the other upon their platters.

"And see to it the table is thoroughly scrubbed."

"Of course, Sebastian!" Mey-rin cried, struggling to carry the enormous tower of crockery in her arms without it toppling to the floor with an almighty clatter. "Whatever you sa—_whooooaaaah!_"

"Sorry!" Finny moaned helplessly as the red-headed maid backed into him, causing her to lose her balance. Before Mey-rin and her great assortment of cutlery could hit the floor, Sebastian sighed – rolling his rosewood eyes – and crossed the length of the room in a heartbeat, the maid secure in his arms. He stuck out his hand and foot, palm flat and toes pointed skyward, and the two trays she had been attempting to transport landed with faint tinkles of china – perfectly laid, no longer a clamorous mess – in perfect equilibrium of balance upon them; Elizabeth applauded with inordinate gusto, Grell sinking low in his chair with hands clinched around his heart; Madame Red pulled him back up again by the ear, muttering something along the lines of, "Pay attention, Grell! That man's a better butler by himself than five thousand of you could ever be."

Mey-rin blushed a feverish shade of beetroot red to find herself held gently in Sebastian's strong arms.

"Ah – I - er, S-Sebastian! Th-thank you!"

"Do try to be more careful Mey-rin," the butler said in a stoic manner, "that's the second time someone of this household has fallen over in my presence today, and I wish you people could just learn to pay attention." His eyes flicked in Ciel's direction, and he scowled back at his butler before leaning back in his chair, crossing his legs in displeasure.

"I'll go see if she's alright," Elizabeth said quietly, getting up from her chair and straightening her many skirts. "I'd hate it if she got anything on that dress of hers, because she looks so pretty in it." She bent her ringletted gold head and kissed Ciel on the cheek, giggling as he turned red and movd his head away; it wasn't quite for the reason she thought it was. "Don't miss me too much, Ciel!"

"Alright…" he mumbled as she went away through the large doors, sinking lower in his chair as he fought against the images of me coming into his mind.

"Let me be of help, Sebastian!" Grell cried, rising to his feet and hurrying forward, long hair trailing in the air behind him. Sebastian sighed as he set Mey-rin upright, kicking up his leg so the silver tray on his foot flew upwards; it almost smacked Grell right in the face as he came closer, causing the feeble brunette to recoil instantly and clutch his thin nose. With a smirk, Sebastian caught the platter on his free palm and turned his back on the Duress butler.

"_Capable_ hands can do the work, Grell," he said, carrying the two vast trays to the kitchen, where Finny and Bardroy were poking out their messy blonde heads; Mey-rin hastily followed him to help tidy up, closing the door after her them.

"Such a cruel wit in humour," Grell whispered, feeling his heartbeat flutter, "to match such a heartlessly beautiful face."

In his chair, Ciel smiled, leaning against one of the gold-plated arm-rests. He reached up and ripped Elizabeth's hat from atop his hair, discarding it with a distasteful flick of his wrist.

"You still keep poor company, Madame Red," he said, reaching for the teacup left for him. He cast an undisturbed gaze over its gilded rim at his aunt. The crimson woman rose to her feet, putting a hand on the back of my vacated chair. Ciel smirked as he set his cup back down on its saucer, a quiet _tinkle_ breaking the silence. "Even after all these years, particularly in light of the case of 'Jack the Ripper', you kept that _ghastly_ Reaper as your butler?"

"It's not as if I exactly chose to keep him! He tried to kill me unless you've forgo-"

"Ghastly!?" Grell piped up, the red flair returning to his hair as the anger burst like a struck flint. He glowered at Ciel, his teeth elongating to their usual sharp shark-like appearance. "You know, you really are still the brat I remember you being."

"Ha," Ciel laughed once. "You're only jealous that I can spend every day with Sebastian, while you can't."

"Don't bring my Bassie into this!"

"_Your_ Bassie?" Ciel reached up his hand and tugged at the black patch over his eye, revealing the faintly glowing lilac pentagram it masked. "I think you'll find Sebastian Michaelis is bound to _me_."

"I quite agree, Young Master," Sebastian's voice came from the doorway, and the two scarlet charlatans turned to see him closing the double doors with a loud, reverberating _bang_; at the mere sight of him Grell seemed overjoyed beyond belief, kicking a leg up behind him as he clapped his hands together.

"Bassie!~"

He batted his long eyelashes, flicking a hand through his mop of unruly red fringe; Sebastian's fell twisted in a grimace of the uttermost disdain.

"Enough of this 'demon's possession' nonsense," clucked Madame Red, folding her slender arms. "As we have discussed upon occasion after occasion, dear nephew, I am indebted to your butler for saving my life at the hands of Grell's Death Scythe; if he weren't a demon of such high calibre I would very well be dead, now. It's miraculous how he was able to save my life from certain death. And, I must say, quite a relief to know I didn't meet my end at the hands of a blithering red oaf of a Reaper-"

"Well, at least _I_ look good in that hat of yours," Grell interjected, pouting in annoyance. Ciel almost laughed at the stupidity of the two before him.

"Be that as it may," his Aunt snapped, "the both of us were punished severely, and—"

"I had to have my nose reconstructed!" Grell cried, recalling with a shiver he wrath of William T. Spears. "One of the prime features of my beautiful face was all crooked and off-line! I was in mourning for weeks - _weeks_! Will almost chopped it off with that damn pruning hook of his - caught me off guard as well; just came shooting across the room at me on its retractable frame."

"—and a consensus was made," Red carried on, shooting a dirty look at her butler, "as we all know. Grell and I need each other, for various reason I'm sure I've already explained, and - according to this idiot's stories - he's been-"

"Oh, there's no need to rub it in, Angie!" Grell retorted, folding his arms grumpily. "I was commissioned by my peers and elders alike to ride down the simple trail for a while, that's all; excuse _me_ if I want to take a break from all that boring Reaping business. Nobody appreciates my flair, anymore!"

Ciel raised an eyebrow.

"He means to say he was sentenced to five and a half years' decommission from Reaper's duty," Red finished in a crisp voice, "which, unfortunately, ends sometime next summer. July, or thereabouts. Trust _you_ to say it was a vacation!" Ciel sighed, rolling his eyes as if it was a story he had heard before; truth be told he hadn't, having not seen his Aunt once since she was sent away for her confinement. It was only a short time ago she and Grell had been reunited, much to the discomfort of both. "Long story short, this _idiot_ next to me had his Death Scythe confiscated for the attempt to reap two souls that were not logged in the Death Ledger, and was sent to continue working for me as a butler again; it's not as if either of us really wanted to be thrown back together, after what almost happened, I suppose it's been bearable to keep him at my beck and call." She flashed a smirk across at him, and he bared his sharp teeth broodingly. After catching Ciel's eye, however, she bowed her head with a sigh and gripped her hands grimly together. "What I did was unconditionally wrong, vulgar, and I have spent my time in heartfelt atonement for my sins."

"We know that much, there was no need to run through your entire apology again," Ciel said brusquely, taking another sip of his tea. "Despite the atrocities you committed, all of us on this Earth are unclean; unnecessary…unwanted." He paused, gripping a hand tightly around the carved head of a hunting hound at the end of his arm-rest. "All of us; you, me…my parents…" He gritted his teeth, clenching his jaw for a moment before continuing. "The only punishment satisfactory for such sinners is death; inescapable, inevitable, terrifying. And we, in the criminal underworld of London, are at its very core of iniquity and vulgarity. Those we have consorted with in the past, particularly Lau and his entourage, are not so very different from you, Aunt." He fixed her with an imperious gaze over the rim of his cup. "We're all murderers here, so your crime is no greater than any of my own."


	5. The Loneliest Rose in the World

**A huge thank you today for GrellKingOfRed, for great support and brilliant perceptive skills :) **

**Basically, if you were a little baffled by events of the previous chapter, I recommend reading his/her review as it sums it up pretty much perfectly :D**

**Hope you enjoy this chapter, MHH**

* * *

With an infuriated slam I threw the door shut, propelling myself to fall – face down – on the bed. I shrieked miserably, clenching my fists upon the meticulously straightened blankets; Sebastian had readily made it, the sheets scented vaguely of roses like his Master.

I couldn't believe what I had just done, such a foolish act, all because I couldn't speak. I wanted nothing more than to tell these people all that I felt, all that I had seen, what I was thinking and how very much I had grown to care for them in these few short hours. How was it possible my life had been turned to Heaven from Hell? And Ciel… he whose name meant 'Heaven' itself, who had vexed me after a single split-second's connection, had allowed me entrance to his perfect world.

But, why?

_Why?_

What possible reason was there to permit a street-rat, an outcast, a dying young woman whom his Aunt – not he – had taken kindly from the roadside and delivered to Zion's warm embrace? Tears slid from my cheeks to stain the pure white of the blankets wet like dew on the petals of snowy roses, and I curled up my legs beneath me like the child I'd once been had done – limp and bloody, begging for death against the bars of an iron cage.

A nightmare flashed before my eyes, dolls crowded all around my prison, glassy eyed and porcelain faces cracked or shattered. I felt my heart lurch in terror, forcing myself upright as my eyes widened madly. The sheets clutched in my hands were moth-eaten and grey, blood-stained and rank with the stench of infectious loathing. Breaths quickening in fear, I turned my head up to see the bed I sprawled upon shrouded on every side with chains and thick iron bars, each of the four bed-posts erected as heavy sentries for the bars to border, keeping me their prisoner.

The very walls and floor seemed to shake, quivering between the manor's clean splendour to dark and mouldering prison before my very eyes. Footsteps were quickly approaching, and I turned my frightened gaze to the door, black and cold as it was thrown open. I saw it then; a flurry of blonde hair whipping my direction, a high sound resonating in my head. I flung myself upon the mattress, my makeshift cell, burrowing face in pillow and clasping my hands together beneath it; a faint tickling of lace was scrunched in my curled fist.

I felt a hand upon my shoulder, pulling me up. I gritted my teeth, ready for the pain to begin.

"Are you feeling alright?"

Startled, I opened my eyes. Elizabeth was there, concern in her emerald eyes. It was green, and not blue, that gazed at me. The room was beautiful, cool and clear with winter sunlight streaming through the open windows. Birds were twittering outside, and this girl's touch was gentle and nonthreatening I all but collapsed into her as I threw my arms about her neck, sobbing uncontrollably. Elizabeth was disconcerted, but she cupped my head and tried to quiet me – much like a mother would her child.

"What brought on this?" she asked gently, as I trembled in her arms. I shook my head meekly against her shoulder, my fingers clutching the softness of her gown, her sleek hair as it tumbled down her back. "You didn't do anything wrong, if it helps. Ciel's been through much worse than having a bit of tea sprayed at him." I shook my head again, moaning at my own idiocy. "He'll hardly ostracise you. I think he thinks you're funny, and cute as well." I froze. Elizabeth let out a small giggle. "I think you're cute too, in the way you don't really know how things work. Forgive me, but you're a little like a baby bird that's flown away from the nest for the first time; just like a little robin."

_That name_.

I shivered violently, hugging Elizabeth tighter as if to steal the very warmth from her embrace. She sighed, realising her words must have somehow affected me.

"Ssshh," she breathed, gently rocking me like she might a baby. "Ssshh, I'm sorry. I didn't upset you, did I? I don't mean anything by it…" Once more I shook my head, drawing away and wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. I opened my mouth, eyes averted, and desperately wished I could say something, utter just the faintest whisper. Nothing came, and tears sprung anew in my eyes. I could feel myself shaking all over; Elizabeth reached tentatively for me, taking my trembling hand in her own. I looked at her, sniffing childishly. Her face, delicate and sweet, was etched with heartfelt concern, but all the same the smile to appear was more beautiful and more kindly than any I had ever seen.

"I'll never hurt you again," she said, gripping my hand with assertive warmth, "by word or action. You have my promise." For the shortest instant she paused, her smile fading before it was replaced by one even wider than before. "And from now on I think I'll have to call you sister; I couldn't consider you being anything else." My mouth fell a little open in surprise, before I returned a rather watery smile. I nodded, once. She stood up, pulling me with her. "Now, come on," she said brightly, "let's go somewhere together; I find myself in an excellent mood to see a deer!"

* * *

Together we spent the hours wandering through the Phantomhive forest, some hundred acres of trees still beautiful in the very midst of winter. Partway, my mother had come to accompany us. They talked much, and fast. It seemed, in the world of fashion and parties and men, these ladies never ran short of words to say; even when a lunch of sandwiches, tea and cake had been brought out for us by Sebastian they continued to talk on and on, only pausing momentarily to thank him before returning to their gossip; I, myself, connected eyes with the butler as he raised his head from his bow, keeping contact for an unnatural spread of time. It was only once he had turned to leave, smirking, that I dared raise my teacup to my lips. What kept my mind at ease was how they seemed so very immersed in their conversation that they'd quite forgotten to direct any questions my way.

Little did we know that, from the wide windows of his study, Ciel Phantomhive leaned against the wall with book in hand, his cobalt blue eye following our quaint progression through his vast estate. The words on the worn pages had long since lost his attentions, drawn instead to the billowing of skirts and long charcoal hair against the simple greyness of the winter's day, blowing away in the December breeze. With a bored sort of sigh he let the book tumble from his hands to sleep upon the window-seat, a faint rustle of pages casting forth a quiet yawn.

Ciel sank down beside it, putting a long-fingered hand against the cool glass. A few raindrops had begun to spatter the clear panes like water flicked from a paintbrush, sliding lazily down as tear-tracks on a woman's cheek. A knock sounded.

"Master?"

"Come in, Sebastian."

Without looking round, Ciel heard the door open and close as his butler entered; a faint squeaking of wheels told him it was time for his afternoon tea. He grimaced; it had been with intriguing irritation that he had found himself at lunch with only Sebastian present – save for the skulking of a certain other butler taking photographs through a gap in the door. He'd found himself somewhat aggravated by the conspicuous absence of Elizabeth, her general screaming and accusations at how incredibly 'uncute' he had become since her last visit, though he had to admit silence was more pleasing than her pestering nature. This is not to say that he didn't care for his fiancé - quite the opposite, in fact, as he was certain she might accidentally maim herself if someone wasn't there to take care of her – although it was hardly a secret of the disdain he held when it came to idle giggling and talk of dresses.

Silence was all he could hope for anymore, just pure and unerring silence in which he could sit and read without a screaming fiancé, without four bumbling servants, no gossip-hunting Aunt committing felonies, no Lau and his damned opium pipe and grating sense of sadistic humour, and – most definitely – no god-forsaken Reaper on the hunt to wed his butler; nothing. Just himself, a book in his rose garden, and Sebastian to serve him as faithfully as ever he had. Nothing but the life he had once lived could make him happier.

"Your tea for today, Young Master," he heard his butler announce, a quiet tumble of liquid pouring as his brew was prepared, "is Pu-erh, from the Yunnan province of China, notable for its distinct earthy aroma." Sebastian walked towards his Master, a cup of steaming black tea in his white-gloved hand. "The leaves of the plant are said to have many health benefits, so I thought it fitting to serve this today." Ciel frowned as he took the teacup, swilling its contents around in its cup as Sebastian turned away.

"Why?" he asked, fixing his butler with an imperious blue gaze. "From what illness do you wish me to recover?" Sebastian paused, his sleek head of onyx turning to meet his Master's glare.

"Have you not been complaining of late about bad dreams, Young Master?" Ciel's frown deepened.

"Bad dreams?"

"I believed it to have been the offset of a fever of some kind," Sebastian continued, picking up a plate of birthday cake. He turned his narrowed red eyes on his Master, smirking. "You speak to yourself, mumbling incoherently." Ciel, previously raising the cup to his lips, faltered. "Have you not noticed?"

"In general, sleep tends not to leave you conscious of what your body is doing, Sebastian," he said coldly, "_have you not noticed_?" The butler smiled, setting the cake down upon Ciel's desk.

"Sharp as ever in your wit, my Lord," he said, bowing low. "I see nightmares have not affected such things."

"Nightmares are for children," Ciel muttered, taking a sip of the charcoal-coloured tea, "and you know, better than most, Sebastian, that I am not a child." The butler raised his head, but did not stand. Ciel was staring fixedly at the slowly swirling dregs of tea, drowned like rats in the Thames at the clean white bottom of his cup. "I haven't been for many years. I lost my innocence that day, _this_ day; eight years exactly, now." Slowly, the Phantomhive demon rose to his feet. "The fire, the rising flames of Hell to burn and consume everything I held dear; my childhood, my manor, my parents…my very soul." The corner of Sebastian's mouth twitched upwards. "All of it…lost…"

Ciel raised the teacup, tilting its gilded brim and allowing tea to spill forth and cascade to the floor.

"My Lord?"

The teacup fell, the Earl's fingers spread wide in deliberate treachery; the china shattered, crumpling to its death as Ciel's life. He gazed down at it as if bored, before turning away to glare out the window.

"Leave me," he said shortly, his eye scouting for its previous distraction.

"Young Master?"

"I said to leave!"

"Very well, my Lord."

"And take your damned cake with you, for I have no interest in such weary festivities." Sebastian obliged, taking the plate and setting it upon the trolley. "This day is immaterial; no poignancy for celebration."

"I shall call you for supper at eight o'clock."

"I have no need for it."

"Young Master, you must eat—"

"Must I!?" he shouted, leaping to his feet and glowering at Sebastian. "Must I forever be cursed to the binding of a butler who doesn't know his place!?" He ripped the eyepatch from about his head, clutching it in his hand. "Leave me be, Sebastian Michaelis; that's an order!" The Faustian contract amid the lilac of his eye pulsated, glowing violet. "I don't want to see your face for the rest of the day, do you understand me!?"

"As well as I ever have, my Lord," the stoic butler replied, stooping low into a bow before turning to leave. Before he set off down the corridor, however, he paused as he took hold of the door handle. "I can't help but wonder…" Ciel turned his back on him, shoulders broodingly hunched. The demon's handsome face curled in a sadistic smile. "…has today been as miserable a birthday as all others have been described? As lonely, dejecting, and sorrowful as they day your parents—"

"_Get out!_" Ciel bellowed, reeling about and throwing the leather patch at his butler; it thwacked noisily against the door as it was pulled shut, and flopped to the floor. In the silence that fell, enraged and impure, the Earl Phantomhive could hear the rain slowly beginning to patter against the windows. He slumped down, aggravated, into his seat as it began to swell in magnitude, like the furious tears clenching around his heart.

"How dare you mention them," he hissed, glaring out the rain-strewn glass, "with such insolence, and that smirk upon your face? You demon, how _dare_ you speak of my parents like that!?" His fingers curled into a fist, trembling with rage upon his thigh. Below, by the rippling fountain, he saw a blurry shape moving toward the manor. Frowning a little, he wiped the foggy panes clear with the lace of his cuff. A vibrant red parasol was gliding closer, dispelling rain as it bounced off its surface; his gaze, however, was distracted – even by the brightness of the large round ruby – by a flurry of hair like liquid silver.

He watched the three women until they were out of sight, heart thumping harder than was normal. He slumped back against the wall, brows furrowed in deep thought. Hand grasping the ivy curtain, he rolled and pressed his back against the wall, as if afraid to be caught in the dull stream of light through the windows.

_Has today truly been as lonely as always it has been?_ he asked himself, frowning as his grip tightened upon the fabric in his hand. He remembered the previous night, the image of a frightened, innocent girl just snatched in the candlelight by his gaze. Her eyes, deep and crystalline blue, spherical wings of a butterfly upon the petals of her face, held more splendour than even the young beauty of her features. With a deep sigh, a pang of confusion and loathing, Ciel clenched shut his eyes and let his head rest against the wall.

_No…_

* * *

Supper was just as wonderful as the breakfast, with finer dishes than even those on the tables of Victoria's court. It was again a merry ordeal, the three Phantomhive servants – each of whom I very much liked by now – bright and unperturbed in their service. Elizabeth, who insisted I refer to her as Lizzy, was forever in rapturous conversation with Red, while I listened and smiled to her joyous gossip of the latest fashions through mouthfuls of potato and finely boiled chicken. I was allowed as many helpings as I desired, which – to someone who so rarely ate – was a gift from Angels, and for dessert there was cherry tart and the gargantuan chocolate cake we had seen this morning. I couldn't imagine a happier night.

But all the same, I reminded myself each time my eyes swept towards the gilded seat at the table's head, it was a rather empty gathering without Ciel. It seemed more like a women's tea party than a meal with my new family. I couldn't help but feel my spirits sink, just a little when we were presented with our cake, for he wasn't here with us; it was his birthday, after all. From what I gathered, he'd taken no time for celebration at all, confining himself to his study and worked away the hours. An Earl he may be, but all the same… I didn't understand how someone with so many wonderful things –servants willing to serve him to the end with jubilant smiles, a manor and grounds more wonderful than those of Buckingham and Windsor combined, and a beautiful, young, kind fiancé who was truly in love with him – could live a life that was so incredibly…

…_lonely_.

As I prepared for bed that night, I thought of little else but he who was just on the other side of the hall. I couldn't help it, couldn't stop the curiosity to overpower me. Ciel seemed such a kind person to me, to take me in and to feed me, to offer his possessions when I made mistakes and to willingly forgive and forget. I had no idea the line of work he had inherited, but he fulfilled his post admirably with such dedication to work the whole day. Even without an eye, he soldiered on to the benefit of others. As far as I understood, he was the only man I'd ever known worthy of my respect.

I was smiling as I lay down, blowing out the candles upon my bedside table. I imagined Ciel, opposite me, doing the same as he settled down to sleep. I curled myself up, wriggling my toes at the comfort of my bed, and reached a hand beneath my pillow to rearrange it. My weary eyes opened in surprise, and I sat up. In my palm was Ciel's lace handkerchief.

_I must have let go of it earlier_, I thought, as I wriggled out of my covers to stand. _When I thought I was in…that place._ I shivered, closing my fingers around the dainty thing in my grasp. _I ought to return it, in case I forget._

Smoothing down my hair – wound in a loose braised bun by Elizabeth – I opened the door and stepped out into the corridor. Immediately I faltered, stomach twisting, as I saw his door – imposing and dark – before me. It was as if I was steeling myself to open it, hand extending and then retracting toward the handle. Finally, before I could stop myself, I closed my eyes tight and swiped for it, all but throwing it open and stumbling inside. Much to my horror, I fell to my knees and heard a giggle break off.

I opened an eye, just a fraction of an inch. I saw it then – the thing to make my heart sink. There was Elizabeth, arms wound tight around Ciel, both dressed readily for bed as they sat upon the mattress, his back pressed against the elaborate headboard with her almost over him. Thunder clapped for the first time that night, heralding the storm brewing outside. In the flash of lightning it accompanied, the strangely haunting image before me was lit up like negative film, skin black as night and shadows white as a corpse. The blinding light cast brilliant, terrifying shadows across the faces I thought so handsome.

"Oh, hello," Lizzy giggled, pulling away and crossing her legs to sit in Ciel's lap. Her hair hung loose, half-mussed as if carelessly unpinned and run through with hands – I suspected they were not her own. "Can't say either of us was expecting you, tonight." I felt my cheeks burn scarlet, body quivering with confusion and embarrassment. I didn't dare turn my eyes up for fear of catching his. "What's wrong?" she asked, seeing the – very obvious – discomfort of my face.

Tremulously getting to my feet, I rubbed my arm awkwardly before thrusting out a hand, Ciel's lace token in my palm.

"Oh, I see," Lizzy said, crawling off the edge of the bed and coming over to me, "you're just returning the handkerchief he gave you." I nodded feebly, and she took it with an oblivious smile. Giving me a brief hug she said, "Goodnight, then!" before clambering back onto the mattress. I nodded, smiling thinly, before turning to leave the room I vowed never to enter again. "Say goodnight, Ciel!" I heard Lizzy hiss, and desperately wished she hadn't.

"What? I – er – ouch! Lizzy!" For she had elbowed him when he hadn't responded directly. "Goodnight," he called, his voice rather strained, and in the doorway I paused. Turning back to the room, I lifted my nightskirt in a curtsey, keeping my face down. But as I raised my head again I felt as if somehow my eyes were drawn upward. In an instant of obliging their desires, my gaze was fixed with his. That one, beautiful sapphire that shined out of his face was unreadable, so many emotions and cravings, unfulfilled longings swimming in that solitary window to his soul, had bewitched me to him with a single glance.

Before I could succumb to his spell, I drew my eyes away and closed the door. The three paces it took to cross the corridor seemed like a mile to every inch, and once in my own room – or else, what had previously been Elizabeth Midford's room – I let the door slowly slide shut, as if separating myself to a whole other world from his. That was all it really was, in detailed description; he a rich, powerful young man, and I a girl with no possession but her own name, wishing to reach the great heights of his realm.

I sank to the floor with my back pressed to the hard wood, staring blankly up at the ceiling as if it might burst open and envelope me in the stormy tumult of the winter rain that pounded the earth outside, thunder occasionally clapping with its great hands of reverberating stone. How high must I climb to see through Heaven's doors? Above the very highest clouds, I might imagine. A tear trickled, venomous and unbidden, down my cheek.

If I was to live with my head in the clouds, how wet would it make my heart?


	6. White Rose Morning

The next morning I awoke positively exhausted; a trait usually expected when a person cannot sleep. The mattress I had found so glorious the previous day was like a bed of mocking nails, no position I found comfortable enough to linger in. I moved and kicked and huffed in frustration all night – causing great discomfort to my injured leg, and when I threw back the blankets I found it bleeding anew upon the sheets – as I continued rolling in discomfort as _their image_ flashed behind my closed eyes; blonde beside the silver, skin on skin with her childish laughter ringing bittersweet in my ears. It felt as though my blood was on fire, coursing venom through my veins and draining my mind of sane imagination. I knew I must let go or my fingers would be stamped upon time after time, so why was it that my hands stayed so resolutely curled over the edge?

Even through the thick and wild jungle of confusion, three things were brought to light through the tangle of mismatched emotions; first, that Ciel Phantomhive was resolutely engaged. Second, that I was all but in love with his fiancée, myself. And third, that I was falling hopelessly – painfully, and unreservedly – in love with him, as well. After a single day, why was it that the Heavens could throw me down from their high clouds and discard me amongst the adulterous animals of Earth? I could not fathom the meaning for the fire burning for Ciel within me, and though I despised it I wanted it to remain and not to burn out.

An adulteress after a single day, barely a spoken word between us; and yet I had been bewitched to his beauty and his charm of kindness. Never before in my life had I encountered such a thing; to have been mistaken for Ciel himself, not once but twice – the near identical array of our features, and our hair alike, surely not coincidental – to have been made welcome by a young man with so many marvellous possessions, fed and washed and clothed, and to have been treated like an equal aside from vermin in London's streets. There had been plenty of men before, but not all impure – there had been one other I had liked, a young constable of copper hair, by name Edward, who had shown me kindness and allowed my stay in his house for some weeks. How very attached we had become, though the feelings I felt were slow to come into being; it was with great sadness that I tore away from that house when I was almost found…by _him_. I had loved Edward Abberline, like a brother but also as…what?

For three years I'd been held captive in that place, before fate cast down a silent saviour. I'd ran, and I'd ran, down so many stairs that almost claimed my life themselves, plunging from a window and surrendering my leg as the shattered hands of glass tried to draw me back in. How was it that I'd found him, fallen – exhausted – into his arms as my weight felled us both like trees. Taken me home, put me to bed, told me next morning I reminded him of someone – someone whom his brother had died trying to save. I stayed with him a while, Edward my charming companion, as my heart slowly re-opened. I was sixteen, too young by far to understand fully what had begun to take hold of me. It still confused me, when I thought about it.

What vexed me further was how, in little over a month I had bonded to him, but now in the house of Phantomhive I was burning after only a few short hours. Was this natural for a woman of my history? To think of what men could be, of what men were, I wondered if I'd fallen for madness and beauty. Everything I now saw, touched, tasted and smelled was Heaven combined with Heaven – was it the splendour of the place I had come to love so fast, like a woman drawn to love for the gold she might receive through marriage? How unlike me that was, who knew – from hard years in squalor – that the true thing to be chased was trust and kindness, currency an immaterial creation. What was shown when a coin was given to a beggar? Was it the money? No, it was the kindness of the one who gave it.

As I climbed stiffly form my bed I kept pondering these troubled ideas, chasing them round and round my head to try and catch an answer. The windows were rain-washed, pallid sunlight rising from his pillow outside. With fumbling fingers I cast the latch, pushing the panes of dew-dropped glass wide. The chilly morning air greeted me with cold kisses on my cheeks, birds calling 'good-morning' from their branches. I folded my arms on the sill and leaned out, my hair fluttering in a gentle breeze. I saw that a small party of rabbits were hopping through the garden, nibbling grass for an early-morning breakfast. The air was crisp and sharp, a great fresh calm to my aching mind. I breathed deep, filling my lungs to their fullest extent; there was a distinctly sweet scent, pale and unintoxicating. I lowered my eyes to peer over the sill, mouth opening in a beam of delight as I saw the most beautiful thing I'd ever laid my eyes upon.

Roses were everywhere, a garden – no, a labyrinth – of pure white petals sparkling with ethereal dew. The weepy sunlight made them glow iridescent, a brave butterfly or two risking the winter's chill to gather sweet nectar from those gorgeous blossoms. There was a topiary, cupid in a sash of snowy white against his greenish skin, shooting arrows of roses from his sinewy bow. A bird bath atop a marble plinth was being shared by a pair of gaily twittering robins, splashing one another in a game of water and screeching at the cold. I giggled, smiling down at all the blooms of the white rose garden. I promised myself I would spend the day there, potential idles willing away the time.

I sighed.

"My Lady?" I heard Sebastian's knock at the door. I turned to see him entering, a large red box tied with white ribbon in his hand. "Your mother bids me give you this dress. Breakfast will be served in half an hour." He handed the box to me, and bowed low; I bobbed hastily into a ramshackle curtsey and he turned to leave – his smirk hardly went unnoticed. As he closed the door I stuck out my tongue, and turned to place the box upon my bed. Pulling at the ribbon, it fluttered to lie upon the mattress as I lifted the lid.

Red, as expected. Of course, what other colour would she supply? With a smile I lifted the fabric, letting it cascade from its casing to the floor. I hugged it to me, spreading the skirt so I could better see it. It was thinner than all the skirts supplied by Elizabeth, a rounded bustle and a few scarlet ruffles on either side; the torso was corseted, sleeves long and belling from the shoulders. The skirt was split up the front centre, revealing a white petticoat. A similar bow adorned the neckline. She had fine taste, if I were to say anything; my heart gave an aggravated twinge, and I scolded myself.

Get used to it, already, I snapped at my own mind. _It's been five years; you'd think you could get over being mute by then!_

I suddenly noticed a note that had been tucked amid the folds of fabric, now fallen to the floor, and bent to pick it up; ruby letters had danced across it, forming the words '_I will examine your leg today, if you wish it. Wishing you slept well, Angelina._'

No. Not at all.

With a sigh I removed my nightdress, letting the scrap of parchment flutter to lie drowsily upon the vanity. unlacing the corset of my attest addition and slipping it up my legs. I could hear Sebastian knocking from the room opposite, sounds of stirring, and I quickened my pace. The dress fit snugly, and was exceedingly comfortable by any standard, and I loosely laced my own corset; I wanted to breathe, unlike so many women of London. I turned, straightening the ribbon over my scar in the mirror, picking up the hairbrush and deciding to smarten my unruly curls as I finally set my mind to explore the house I now lived in. I went to the door and pulled it to, turning to back out into the corridor. As I closed the door behind me, pulling the brush through a knot, I turned to find myself directly before the black butler.

"You must have a thing for close encounters in this corridor, Miss Durless," he said with a smirk, seemingly delighted by the flustered surprise on my face; the name he had called me didn't seem to fit, though I supposed that must be what I was called now. "I shall see you at breakfast." He ducked into a bow. "Twenty five minutes, my Lady." I nodded to show my – somewhat vague – understanding, and he walked away. I scowled after him, that snide butler. There was something about him that just wasn't right, like a seemingly ripened apple that was rotten beneath an unpierced skin. There was something unpleasant, inhuman, about this man; he quelled the beauty of Phantomhive.

* * *

Twenty five minutes seemed not very long at all when it came to my explorations, but – then again – the manor was absolutely enormous. However, the one room I had discovered was worth even the quickest glance. The Phantomhive library was vast, a two-floor establishment, with three walls plastered with polished rows of books upon books in their thousands. The wavering scent of old parchment and ink was oddly soothing, the western wall completely taken up by double-storey windows that spanned from floor to ceiling. It must have been beautiful to remain here until late, the sun setting through the glass and casting amber shadows onto the pages you were reading. Comfortable looking armchairs were dotted about on both levels, the second a glass floor bordered by dark wooden planks and hinged doors leading to fixed rungs to the floor below.

How frightful it must be, I thought, to walk on what would seem like thin air…and yet how very wonderful, much like flying as a bird inside a book-lined cage.

Three elaborately carved ladders on wheels were attached to rungs on the bookcases, and – in a moment of childish curiosity – I clambered onto one, kicking off from the side. Gripping tight to the gilded handles I sped down the room, hair flurrying behind me like the wind. I laughed as if nothing had happened when I fell off at the end, toppling into a bookcase and slumping to the ground; even when my leg twinged in scorn and began to throb a little my spirits were not dampened - oh, to be young and to have no-one watching you.

Or so I imagined.

"Who's that?" The voice made my laughter cease instantly. "Who's there?" I turned my head up at the sound of a footstep. "Mey-rin? I hope you're not making a mess aga—oh." Ciel was standing upon the glass on the floor above me, a very thick volume in his hand and a frown upon his face. "I'd thought you were… or else Lizzy, for all the racket, but she does hate to read, so…" I swallowed guiltily, getting to my feet and dusting off my skirt; hastily I bowed, trying to replace fallen books on their shelves at the same time. "Oh, you can leave that. Sebastian can deal with it."

_No. I could do it myself_. Sebastian, that rotten young man with his horribly handsome smirk, wasn't going to 'make up for my mistakes' and embarrass me again. I couldn't forget the sight of that handkerchief in his fingertips, the tea dripping from it as I stared in horror. I'd come so close to such an awful thing, and it burned my cheeks just thinking that it still turned out terrible.

"Really," Ciel continued, and I heard the quiet _chink_ of footsteps as he crossed the glass, "you don't have to trouble yourself." He opened a trap door in the glass, and I turned my head to see him sliding down one of the fixed ladders with expert speed; when he came a few feet from the floorboards he let go and landed nimbly, well-practiced and utterly casual. I pressed my back to the bookcase, arms folded behind me, as he stepped closer. He opened his mouth to say something, closed it awkwardly and then re-opened it. "Thank you for returning my handkerchief, last night." I felt the blush in my cheeks, but smiled and nodded once. "I wasn't really expecting you to return it, but…" He trailed off, as if more than a little uncertain of what to say. "I'd like you to know I don't mind what happened, just in case…well, you were feeling…" I frowned a little, seeing a small smile on his lips. "Calamities are a specialty in this household, but that stunt with the tea was really quite amusing compared to the rest." I bit my lip, shying away. "You made my birthday actually quite enjoyable," he finished, coming to a halt before me, "for the first time in a fair few years." I smiled bashfully, and he returned it in that awkward way people do when unused to smiling.

A small silence hovered between us, in which our eyes somehow found each other's. For a surprisingly long time we didn't draw away, before Ciel's flicked to the ladder beside me.

"I see you were enjoying yourself," he commented, and I groaned in embarrassment; he laughed under his breath. "The number of times I would do that as a child, with Lizzy chasing after me insisting on a tea party. It was all so simple back then." He smiled reminiscently, patting an affectionate hand upon a sturdy wooden rung. "Lizzy hates reading now, you see; far prefers talk of dresses than any of Shakespeare's works, sewing with her maid to make the pinkest atrocities you've ever seen. It forever confuses me how women can be so very…shallow." I started laughing, and he seemed instantly shocked at what he had said in the presence of a woman. "I – I didn't mean you, no, i-it's just… ahem…"

I continued to quake with silent laughter, letting my head fall back and hit the spine of a rather thick book. It was knocked loose, and fell to the floor before my fumbling hands had a chance to catch it.

"I've got it," Ciel said, ducking to his knees and retrieving it. I took it from his hands when he straightened up, feeling the oddly contradictory cool warmth of his fingers. I looked at the cover, gilded letters naming it 'Cinderella'. _What a curious word,_ I thought to myself, as I flipped it open and was immediately consumed in the minute text. _Was it a name, or place, or a made-up phrase from a fantastical land? _I simply had to know. Ciel smiled vaguely as he saw my instant interest. "It seems I was wrong, and that you like to read as much as myself. Are you interested in this kind of book?" I raised my head, not really certain of what kind of book it even was. I shrugged. "Open to new interests, then? A book of any kind could interest me, I suppose. Are you much the same?"

While I may not have read for the longest time, I remembered how I had learned from Edward, how very much I had enjoyed every piece of script placed before me whether it was a novel or poem or even an extract from the newspaper. The sequences of the same twenty six letters in different arrangements, much like a secret code, was just so fascinating to me. To have words, that people spoke and imagined in their heads, could be written down with such queer spellings; like that one, 'written' with a 'w' at the beginning that has no significance whatsoever and yet it is there. Reading was a great joy of mine, though I was not yet proficient - but the rapturous joy within me that had sparked when first I set foot in the Phantomhive library was beyond fathomable reaches.

In answer to Ciel's question, I nodded.

"You're the first I've ever met like that," he said, fixing me with a curious look in his clear blue eye. "I find it rather boring by myself in here… somewhat lonely with company of just myself and the books of every age of the Earth." I smiled, returning his gaze. "I don't suppose—"

"Young Master, breakfast is served," Sebastian's voice called from the floor above. There was a pause, then footsteps. "Young Master? Oh," The two of us turned up our heads to see the butler in black standing upon the glass directly above us, "there you are."

"Y-Yes, I was just…" his voice trickled away as Sebastian raised his eyebrows ever so slightly.

"Breakfast is served in the dining room," he repeated, watching as I replaced the book on its shelf.

"We'll attend directly," Ciel replied, and his butler swept low in his usual bow before turning to leave. Rolling his eyes, Ciel proffered his arm; I took it.

* * *

"Good morning!" Elizabeth cried brightly, racing forward to seize me in a bear-like embrace the very moment we had entered the room. "Did you sleep well?" I shrugged, and she giggled as she took my arm from Ciel's and directed me to sit before a steaming plate of fresh sausages, roasted tomataoes and eggs. She sat on the other side like yesterday, Ciel beside her. Mother sat on my left, planting a kiss on my cheek as she sat down.

"Do you like the dress?"

I smiled at her and nodded decisively, as I began to cut up a sausage.

"I'm glad to hear it," she said, taking a sip of her tea.

"I'm not so sure red suits you, though," Lizzy interjected, and I looked up at her in surprise. She was frowning at me as if trying to assess colours like someone chooses wallpaper. "You look a lot like Ciel, and he really suits blue, so I think blue would look better on you – don't you think Ciel?" He had been drinking a hot cup of tea, before he paused. Slowly he lowered the cup from his lips, and I saw the glimpses of a smile tweaking them as he fixed me with that clear blue eye of his.

"I think red suits you very much," he said, causing Lizzy's mouth to fall open a little in surprise, "and I'm sure you'd look just as fine in blue, or green, or yellow, or any other colour, for that matter." I smiled at him, blushing just a little, before returning to my breakfast in a distinctly brighter mood.

* * *

Once breakfast had been cleared away, and Lizzy had dragged Ciel away with talk of 'a really truly adorable Christmas party' my mother took me to her room. It was large, clean and trimmed with such a pure white it was amazing she had not ransacked it with crimson paint. She told me to sit upon the bed, and I obliged as she shrugged off her red jacket to replace it with one so surgically white it was definite even the slightest speck of dust would show.

"I'm a doctor you see," she explained, sitting beside me on the edge of the bed. "When I saw you on the roadside, it wasn't only the belief you were Ciel which compelled me to turn back." Taking off her ruby gloves, she gave off a little sigh. "Seeing a person so pained hurts my heart, regardless of whatever past I may have known…" She gave a shiver, remembering a bloodstained incident she vowed never to enlighten me upon. Discarding the thought, she pulled the smile back to her handsome face. "I simply had to take you with me, you see," she continued, rolling up my skirt and hissing her breath as she saw the congealed blood around the long serrated gash upon my leg. "Dear me, you have been in the wars, haven't you?" My mouth twitched in a numb grimace of a smile, before contracting as she gently touched it with her pale fingers. I jerked my leg away, and she looked at me. "I'm sorry. I don't want to hurt you, my love."

_I know…_

I desperately wished I could tell her, begging the earnest of my heart to flash in my eyes, for her to understand. It was just so difficult, and I knew that it was all but pointless. The only way I could tell her anything was to show my willingness to her care. Dreading the pain, but knowing this was what I had to do, I slowly shifted my leg back towards her – I gripped my hands to the blankets as she tentatively took hold. I nodded quickly in answer to her questioning gaze, making up my mind before fear could change it.

"It would take a good month to heal over naturally," she said, after inspecting the damage for a good few minutes. She was correct in that; when I had resided with Edward, for a little over thirty days, I'd had no real treatment and had had to tend it myself with very limited knowledge. "I fear I'll have to sew this closed, if there is any hope to prevent any serious infection – it's a wonder you've been able to cope with this for so long." She cast me a half-hearted smile. "You're very strong, child. Elizabeth would have been screaming her head off at the merest prick of a needle, and yet you haven't said even a word this whole time."

_There was good reason for that._

"Would you be alright if I were to do this?" she asked, and for a long moment I didn't respond. I had to trust her; she was my mother, now. Heart pounding, I nodded once.

* * *

She tried not to make it hurt, but truly it did. Every moment hurt so much, my teeth bared so hard they might shattered against one another, eyes screwed up so tight it pained me almost as much as the glittering needle wending itself in and out of my skin. It had become a pattern – piece, pull, dab, pierce, pull, dab. The cloth dampened with cool water stung almost as much as the sharp tip of the needle, slowly turning the contents of the bowl a dirty shade of red. I was crying silent tears by the time she cut the thread.

"There," mother said, clapping her hands on her knees. "I'm sorry if it hurt at all, but you may as well be riding horses within a week!" My lip trembled, and before she could say another word I flung myself around her neck and pulled her into the tightest embrace I could muster.

_Thank you_, the words screamed out at her, tears rolling down my cheeks as I buried my face in her shoulder. Shocked at first, she let her mother's arms enfold around me with all the warmth of a kindly fire. I closed my eyes, lost in the love I felt from her touch.

_Thank you…_

For a surprisingly long time we stayed like that, rocking back and forth together upon the edge of the bed. It was only when I felt a small tickling in my hair that I opened my eyes.

"I'm so glad it was you," she whispered, and I drew my head back to fix her with an inquisitive gaze. I saw her eyes glistening, sparkling with ripples of tears like bright red wine. "For the longest time I've wanted a child, eighteen years at the very least. I fell in love with Vincent, but my sister married him instead. Their child was Ciel, who was as good as my own son for so many years." Her eyes saddened, and she looked away. "I married, and finally conceived – my life was so perfect. But then... the carriage crashed, and he died - the foetus had to be removed or I would have died. I'll never be able to have my own child, but…" Her eyes turned back to me, a watery smile pulling her cherried lips apart. "I don't need a child of my own to be happy." She leaned forwards and kissed my forehead, brushing a lock of hair back from my tear-stained blue eyes. " I've got you, now; I'm so glad it was you."


	7. When First the Flower Woke

Arm in arm with mother, clean white linen winding its way - snakelike - up my lower leg, I walked from her rooms. It was with surprise that I spotted Ciel down the corridor, leaning his back upon a door and flicking his hands absently through the pages of an oddly familiar book. The way in which he raised his head and sighed, before his gaze settled on the two women in red and visibly brightened, suggested an air of expectant waiting before certain relief.

"I've been waiting for you," he said, sending a somewhat unpracticed smile in my direction.

"Escaped from Elizabeth's party planning, have we, Ciel?" mother asked in a teasing manner, winking one of those mischievous red eyes at her nephew. He snorted, and I was uncertain whether it was for humour or disdain.

"I suppose that's what you could call it," he replied, uncrossing his lanky legs and starting towards the pair of us. "How was it? Are you alright, now?" he asked me, mouth still twisted in that almost awkward half-smile. I returned it, nodding. "I'm sorry to hear you were in such bad condition; I'm surprised you didn't mention it sooner, I would have had you treated immediately." I felt a light blush creeping into my cheeks, and my smile feebly twitched wider.

"What's that you were reading, dear?" Red inquired, having noticed the volume tucked in the crook of his arm.

"Hm?" Ciel looked at her, before turning his gaze down to the book that had previously evaded his attention. "Oh, this?" He took it in hand, and proffered it towards me. "Since you seemed so smitten with it earlier, I took the liberty of finding it again." I gently took the book from his grasp, but found that his fingers seemed to linger upon my own as I touched the cool leather. For a moment I wondered if he mightn't let go, but he did. My fingers found their grip, as I smiled down at the strange word on the cover before raising my head to him. I saw he was smiling, still in that unidulged way. "Cinderella isn't something I'd read often, so I'll shed no tears leaving it in your possession from now on."

I loved him. Truly, I did. I had no reason to, but my heart pleaded otherwise with no definitive case to argue; despite the valiant efforts of my conscience, I knew I was slipping. However pathetic I seemed, with this unbidden fae-romance sparking within my head, it was a deathly battle with my own mind to overcome the scourge of affection; the frontier of my own common sense had been breached, screaming battalions of love and lustre. Without really thinking I hugged him, clasping my hands around his neck with the leather-bound volume digging uncomfortably into his shoulder.

"It's nice to know how well you two get along," mother said, smiling in an affectionate manner. Blushing somewhat, I pulled away from Ciel in time for Red to stroke my hair and begin to walk away. "I have other business to attend to - and I'll see if Lizzy needs more help for this party of hers. Mind you don't get into any trouble, loves!"

I waved after her, and she blew a kiss from her ruby lips before turning the corner and vanishing from sight; I could hear the hollow tapping of her heeled red boots clunking down the staircase.

"Business, business." Ciel rolled his eyes with a sigh. "The only business she has to conclude is spreading gossip." This was so true that I couldn't quite stifle a giggle; Ciel looked at me a moment, and wasn't really sure how he felt at that moment apart from a little confused. He'd grown unused to the practice of humour, and it had been so long since he'd really told a joke that had received such strangely warm laughter. In truth, he rather liked making people laugh. It had just been so long since he'd ever had someone to share it with, and it warmed the slightest cockles of his heart to think that now he did. Whenever she came to visit, Elizabeth's bird-like twitter of raucous giggling caused nothing but a migraine to spark within him; the general mismatched cacophany of the four servants made his head start to throb; and the sophisticated smirking chuckle of Sebastian hardly helped if he was in a foul mood - more often than not, these days, he found himself in that self-same predicament. Now that he was older, and could be accepted as head of the Phantomhive Household without incredulity and mocking gossip behind his back - not to mention the grumbling grudges held against him by a certain Sir Randall of the Scotland Yard - work and countless documents piled up and up upon his desk, leaving barely a day free to the books and garden he loved so much. Even at Christmas there was no such indulgance, leaving him in a continual state of discontent, fatigue and at an overall loss for any incentive to laugh at all.

So now it almost puzzled him, this alien laughter than was sweeter than anything he'd ever heard. Ciel just stood there a moment, unaware of the vacant smile upon his face as his gaze settled upon this charming young woman who had appeared from nowhere. She came with no discernable past at all, and yet... for some inexplicable reason, he felt he somehow knew her. She, who was so similar to him in both face and interest, was enchanting in some amiable way he could not yet understand. Slowly, unwittingly, something settled into place within Ciel Phantomhive that day; the intrigue of a new and unsettling, entirely radical relationship.

There was silence for a fair many seconds, in which gazes were exchange - Ciel to me, me to Ciel and back, before I looked again to the volume in my hand; I stroked a finger down the binding of its spine, feeling the violet ribbon that held the pages to their place. Ciels eyes were drawn to the movement, mind settling on the book my finger now traced.

"I meant to ask earlier," he said, somewhat awkwardly, and I looked back up attentively, "since you seem so attatched to books, yourself, I was wondering if you would - perchance - like to join me in the library this afternoon?" My mouth opened in a broad grin of suprise, and I nodded with such enthusaism that the young Earl almost laughed. "I would have to work for some hours on business matters of my own, but later - after supper, or some time as such - we could read together?" My smiled widened, and he could veritably sense the excitement to radiate from my person. Proffering his arm as we began to walk together, he said, "A room without books is much like a body with no soul to call their own, don't you think?"

I shrugged, considering this intriguing idea. I couldn't help but wonder whether or not Ciel himself had devised such a thought; it did seem rather like him, and I somehow found I had to agree. Then, he began to laugh under his breath.

"Though, I suppose, it's not as if either of us will ever be able to experience the latter, will we?" he said, and I found myself smiling in an oddly quizzical way as I considered this.

_ No,_ I thought, _it's not._

* * *

_ The girl awoke, barely able to see through the sleepy fog hazing her deep blue eyes. Turning her ringletted blue-grey head, she blinked to try and clear her misted vision. It was almost as if this were the first time she had ever opened her eyes, despite now being the exact age of thirteen. Though she could see nothing in detail, all there was to behold was a dark and cold grey, splashed with faded colour and the occasional flickering shine of a burning candle. _

_ Moving seemed a fantastic effort, twitching the very smallest of her fingers something she struggled to achieve. Every aspect of the girl, both physical and psychological, felt entirely unused and sluggish - as though thoughts had never before run through her mind, and certainly had she never been able to raise a smooth-skinned hand to look at it all by herself. Something within her felt very strange, as though her every action may yet have been controlled by another, much more powerful being._

_ And so she lay there, unmoving and innocent and uncertain - her Payne hair neat and shining in its two cornucopian-curl pigtails, skin untouched and pale as china, eyes half-open as if in a daydream as they stared sleepily up at her gently quivering fingers, and shrouded in a satin dress of peacock blue to match her eyes - much like a porcelein doll that had been lain there for a later engagement._

_ "I don't believe it..." she heard a voice say, and she slowly lowered her hand. "She's awake...and now-Oh, but you did it! I... I can finally have them!" The voice was growing in excitement. "They're mine!"_

_ "Yes," another voice said in reply, a rather hollow and mechanical sort of voice - much like a recording for a toy, "but she is not so perfect as when first you wanted her."_

_ "What do you mean?" the first asked petulantly. The girl heard two sets of footsteps approaching - every noise seemed to echo and reverberate around inside her head, a faint buzzing in her ears as if she were a deaf suddenly hearing for the first time. She turned her sleek grey head to see two pairs of boots - one buckled with brightest orange, the other laced with purple - beside her. Those embellished with orange crinkled as the one who occupied them bent, and she felt herself being pulled up by his hand as easily as if there were strings hoisting her. She felt so weak she could not even raise her head to see the two who stood by her side, instead letting her head slump and her eyes to dazedly fix upon the polished blue buckle-up bootees upon her stockinged feet; there was a chain tying her right leg to a clamp fixed in the somewhat dusty floorboards._

_ Before she could question this, she felt a cool hand on the base of her chin pulling back her head. As the skin was stretched tighter by the pale-gloved fingers, she felt an odd stinging sensation from her neck. Something rather hot and sticky slowly oozed down her throat._

_ "What did you **do** to her?" the first voice spoke again. "It's all mangled and-uurgh..."_

_ "There was no other way to repair her," the second replied, still in that rather monotonous fashion. "The stitching will fade, but the scar may never do so; and, until she becomes 'complete' in **that way**, she will never speak."_

_ "After the price that I paid, **this **is what I receive!?" the first voice was suddenly ernaged, and very high as if the speaker was no more than a child whining for not being presented with a toy it had taken a fancy to. "I didn't want to have to do this-"_

_ Even so, sir, she is still a fair lady."_

_ "-but for such a mistake."_

_ There was a sleek flash of gold, and a rasp of breath. The girl felt herself fall as the one holding her dropped to the floor with a dull thud, blood spurting through the air. The pain was hard and sharp as her head cracked the floorboards, and she saw a blonde figure standing over her. There was a knife of gold and red in his hand, wearing colours of white and lavender purple. His face, from what little she was able to see, was young - it could have been any age, from her own to almost thirty. The pale blonde hair was shaggy, and their was a shine of periwninkle blue from two bright - and yet somehow darkened - eyes. _

_ Something hot and thick touched her hand, and she turned her head to see a pool of scarlet slowly seeping its way from an unmoving mass of orange and blue. She twitched her fingers as they stained a dark and tainted red; caught by the candle-light, glittering from her thumb was a ring of deepest cerulean blue; just by a glance you might imagine the very sky had been captured and set within stone. She sensed a presence moving closer, and when she looked aagin the young blonde man was crouched almost upon her. She did not understand, had no clue of any intention of his mind; then she felt the thin, cool blade of gold against her cheek._

_ "You're finally mine, aren't you?" he asked, his voice mellow with a purr. "Mine, at long last; my little robin, the baby jay that flies all the way up to Heaven..."_

_ She felt the slash upon her skin, the hotness of the blood, the searing pain of his attack. It was unlike anything she had ever felt before, white-hot and blindingly sharp in agony. Her cry was muffled by the crush of his lips against hers, teeth biting hard and tongue violently seeking out the defilement he so craved. She knew no combat, neither did she understand any means to defend herself. By some strange instinct, she raised her fists - slow and unpracticed as she was, he caught her and pushed her down, grinning maliciously at her total surrender and helplessness before him. It was what he loved, what he lived for - the very core of his existance was now so revolutionary upon the single objective of massacre and power; this power was what he craved, over all living things. He now was exacting an indulgence of that power; and the power over a young woman was so very delicious..._

I opened my eyes, to see the glimmer of brightest blue hovering inches from my face. Without thinking I grabbed him, the one I hated so much, and leapt to my feet as I span him round and threw him - flattened him - against the enormous bookcase. He gasped in surprise and pain as books were knocked loose and fell upon him as they toppled from their perches. I pressed him there by the throat, choking him tight, with teeth bared and eyes wild in frenzy.

Then I felt his hand against mine, with that familar contradiction of a cool warmth. My mind realised even before my eyes fell upon the gleaming blue gemstone ring wound about his thumb. It was Ciel, and not _him_, whom I had attacked. Petrified at what I had done, I retracted my hands to shield my horror-struck mouth and hastily retreated. My eyes were wide with terror, staring at him as he tentatively massaged his neck. I backed into the chair, moving too fast to stop, and tangled my legs upon the chair and tumbled to the polished floorboards - a rather painful, pointed object jabbed indignantly into my back. Tears were in my eyes when as I looked up from the floor, my rightful place in accordance with him - he whom I had almost killed.

He looked at me a moment, long and hard and questioning - there was something unnerved about his gaze, though there was neither a trace of anger or ire to be found amid his mixed palette of expression. All the same, when he stepped somewhat cautiously towards me, I expected him to strike me or else shout; so many had before, but none had been so bad a punishment as the shock of that first day had been; the very first day I had 'awoken' was the first I'd wished to die.

Ciel, however, stopped a little before me and extended his hand; I flinched, clenching my eyes tight shut and muscles tensed, but was surprised when I felt no burning hot pain across my cheek. I slowly opened my eyes, seeing his palm still outstretched towards me. I looked questioningly to his face, seeing it perfectly blank and unaffected - but, to be certain, there was the slightest tweak of a smile.

"I would not strike a woman so lightly," he said as I took his hand, pulling me to my feet. I bowed my head in shame as my eyes beheld the bruising that now began to appear blotchily upon his throat. A tear fell without my assent, and he cupped my cheek. "People have attempted my death in far worse ways - be assured I do not like you any less." My lip trembled feebly, and I shook my head; it was still a terrible thing to have done. Perhaps not in his eyes, but to my own it was something I could not even contemplate - how could I possibly have mistaken Ciel for _him_, when one was like the bird that flew past Heaven's clouds and the other a demon incarnate?

"Are you alright?" Ciel asked in a gentle voice, and I sensed the care with which he laced those words. I paused, wondering if I really was, turning my head away to stare at the chair I had fallen asleep in; the strange object I had fallen on had been the book I was reading, slumped from my hands while I slept. As much as the nightmare - nay, _memory _- haunted me still, now that I was here and protected I had no reason to fear the past. A weary smile twitched at my lip, and I nodded as I turned back to him. "A nightmare, was it?" I nodded again. "Yes, well, I noticed you'd fallen asleep; I'd just finished working, and came down to sit with you. Your snores really are a charming reply to 'how are you'." He winked and almost laughed as a blush crossed my cheeks. "I only tease," he assured me, though I was still consciously embarrassed of what could have happened while I was sleeping.

He let my face fall away from his palm, turning with hands behind his back to walk to the large French windows to occupy the entire wall. Every shade of gold was pouring through them now, as the sun slowly began his descent behind the dimming trees. I saw Ciel as a silhouette against the fiery fray of colour and warmth to paint the skies, shoulders back and head raised to stare boldly back into the blaze. As he looked from the window to the world outside, I turned my head to gaze around the library. In the brightness of the dying sun, this city of books that I found so beautiful was like a paradise of glittering sand and balmy fire. Everything was dyed in the marigold glow of the sun, light refracting from the glass floor of the storey above to send rainbows dancing across the floor and bookcases. I raised my hand to the one nearest, watching in delight as my pale fingers wriggled in the new-found enchantment of retaining every colour.

"It's quite beautiful, now," I heard Ciel say, and turned to see him looking at me with a smile. "It will be like this for another hour or so, so why do we not stay here for a while longer? I'm not at all hungry, are you?" I shook my head, and he nodded to show his acknowledgement. "I'm certain we could call for something if we wish, but I'm sure you have much reading to catch up on - since you're so far ahead with sleep, this evening." I blushed, smiling warmly at him. When he was alone he seemed so much more humorous and alive when compared to with Elizabeth and Sebastian. Almost as if he saved this part of himself for his own enjoyment. What a strange young man this Earl was; how jovial he appeared, when - mere minutes ago - the girl he could yet call his ward had tried to strangle him.

But, much as he had done, I soon forgot the whole matter as the two of us sat down to read in those comfortable armchairs facing the windows. I noticed - as time slipped by - that when with a book, he seemed so much more at ease than when surrounded by people and servants. He smiled much more, as well - it was noticable - and when he did so his face was so very care-free and seemed less aged and worn with fatigue. When in comfort, with a companion and a book, he looked happy. Content. And he was - very. Ciel enjoyed the strange company of the girl he barely knew, enjoyed the way she did not fetter him with gossip and was every bit as smitten with literature as himself. How incredibly like him she was, and how very much she was polarised in context to Elizabeth. Without really realising it, every so often he would cast a surrepticious smile her way through the silence.

It was well after the sun had set that did he finally lay down the book upon his lap, for the last of the candles had burnt themselves out with a quiet yawn as the flame extinguished sleepily in its bed of wax. Ciel yawned, too, and stared out the window into the flickering indigo and purples of twilight. A few stars were twinkling, out early as if eager for night to begin. He was silent for a few moments, in which he heard the quietness of the snores of the girl beside him. He turned his head, and found that her own lay slumped and comfortable upon his shoulder. She had fallen asleep on him, without either of them realising. The book was held unconsciously open on her lap, fingers twitching in her sleep as they meekly propped open a page. Ciel continued to look at her, the smooth skin of her face glowing softly like the moon in the starlight. She was so peaceful, so simple and innocent. As the moon shone sleepily through the windows the panes of glass cut a pattern across her pale face like petals of a white rose.

Ciel found, as his eyes began to twitch in and out of focus, that he did not want to move her; he thought that even touching her might wake her up and spoil her slumber, would break the spell of this silent moment. He felt the cogs and pistons of his body slowing, as all the workers keeping him awake began to file out and trundle home to their wives and children for the night. Tired and contented, Ciel tentatively laid his head gently upon hers. He felt the soft, sleek cushion of her hair, the vague scent of roses and lavender. It calmed him, and when she released a long breath of drowsy air he smiled faintly. Closing his weary eyes, he instantly slipped away into sleep.


End file.
